The Stranger
by Dierdre
Summary: A strange ship has crashlanded on the Beast Wars planet, and it's sole occupant isn't Cybertronian. No update, just a consolidation of parts in belated compliance with FFnet rules.
1. Default Chapter

_**Author's Note: I beg forgiveness, those of y'all who liked this fic, but I'm afraid that it is permanently discontinued. I have changed fandoms, improved my writing skills (or so I hope), and have subsequently lost all desire to complete this tale. I don't want to erase the story entirely, so I am merely consolidating the Parts in belated compliance with the rules of FFnet. **_

_**Gomen nasai, minasan. (Bows low)**_

_Disclaimer: The plot and all original characters belong to me, while Hasbro and other companies (whose names I can't remember for the life of me) own the Beast Wars. So don't sue. You won't get much. :)_

**The Stranger  
**by Dierdre

**Part One**

Chapter One

Rhinox, one of the oldest members of the Maximal team, was at the computer console. It was the dead of night and he was the only one on-line. The others were slumbering peacefully in their quarters. As tired as he was, he could not resent their rest time; things had been rough the past deca-cycle. Everyone was exhausted and edgy. Thank the Matrix; the Predicons had finally halted their attacks.

Rhinox suppressed a yawn. A little over one megacycle remained before Rattrap would relieve him. The Maximal would be right on time of course, but not without a great deal of grumbling and slightly acerbic comments. Rattrap never accepted any task with grace.

The bot on duty had to do something to alleviate the boredom. While his optic sensors were trained on the screen, his fingers glided expertly over the console, routing the base's outward sensors to his monitor. He set them to change every 7 nano-clicks; this way, he could see eight directions in just under a cycle. Leaning back in his chair, watching the screen change from one peaceful scene to another, Rhinox did not expect any trouble. The Preds were surely just as tired as this group. Still, it gave him something to do as the cycles dragged slowly by.

Despite this distraction, his optical lids were heavy, and his mind was not focused on the screens. The image shifted to the camera on the topmost part of the ship, pointing in the direction of the night sky. The planet's moon, no longer dominated by its much larger, and much more destructive, sibling, filled a good portion of the monitor. The larger moon had not been a moon at all but a monstrous machine capable of incredible devastation. It would have demolished the whole planet if Optimus had not been able to destroy it. A tiny point of light, smaller than the stars, was moving across the sky. Rhinox would have missed it entirely had it not chosen just that last moment, before the screen flickered to another image, to enter the atmosphere. Its superstructure heated to several thousand degrees in less than a nano-click, causing it to glow a brilliant orange and white.

Rhinox sat bolt upright, no longer tired.

"What the slagging..." The Maximal muttered, his hands flying over the controls. "Computer! Magnify the object in sector 00.358 and identify."

"Magnifying," the base's computer replied in its soft impersonal voice.

The screen wavered as the computer overrode the previous program. It recalled the surveillance system's uppermost camera, showing that the point of light was still descending towards the earth. The sensors focused on the object, bringing it up to full magnification.

The object appeared huge on the screen. It could have been mistaken for a meteor except that Rhinox could see, barely, a metallic… something among the flames.

The computer finished analyzing the object, and the screen's image was quickly replaced with several neat columns of data, giving the unknown object's approximate size, weight, speed, vector to crash point and its contents.

Rhinox could not believe his sensors. "Computer, confirm data!"

"The phenomenon is an interstellar craft of unknown design, approximately 20 meters in length by 10 meters in width, and is descending at a speed of 1,200 mph. The cruiser has received heavy damage to its outer hull. Shipboard computers are attempting to slow its decent. They will be unsuccessful; the craft will impact the earth at Grid Markum in approximately 19 cycles. Pilot does not register as either Predicon or Maximal. Status: Inactive."

"By the Matrix," Rhinox whispered.

He hit the emergency alarm button with enough force to rattle the console, and yelled into the speaker. "Everyone report to the bridge immediately! Code T! I repeat; Code T!"

* * *

Optimus Primal, the leader of the Maximals, came on-line with a start, immediately on the alert. The voice of his trusted friend, Rhinox, reverberated throughout the ship. Optimus had known Rhinox for many stellar-cycles, and in all that time, he had never heard him speak with such urgency.

He left his quarters at a fast trot, his footsteps rumbling the deck. As he traveled down the long hallway, he passed Dinobot's quarters. Dinobot was once a Predicon, but Megatron betrayed him. Soon afterwards, he joined the side of the Maximals. The door slid open, revealing the sparse interior for an instant as Dinobot stalked out. His long strides brought him easily abreast with Optimus.

"Good morning," Optimus said.

Dinobot growled, the sound originating from somewhere deep in his chest, and replied, "I fail to see what is good about it!"

Primal shook his head and grinned tolerantly. The bot was always irritable and picked fights with Rattrap on a regular basis. Optimus had only seen him smile when he thought no one was looking. All in all, he was a dour individual.

_Wouldn't want him any other way,_ the Maximal leader declared to himself.

No sooner had he thought this, than the two were on the bridge with red lights flashing in alarm. Rhinox was staring at a flaming point in the sky, his hands a blur on the console as he tried to pull in all available information from the stations. The other Maximals filed in a few seconds later.

At the command of Optimus, Silverbolt, a new addition to their little band, sat at a nearby terminal trying to boost the ship's scanners. He was a Fuzor, a mixture of a wolf and an eagle. He was an honorable bot, kind and completely trustworthy.

Cheetor was staring intently over his shoulder. The youngest of the group, he was a Transmetal, like Optimus. Both Optimus Primal and Cheetor's super structures had been mutated as a direct result of the larger moon's destruction. Their beast forms were now capable of flight.

Rattrap, also a Transmetal, lounged in a chair a little apart from the others. In his usual contrary fashion, he did his best to look disinterested. Optimus pushed his way to Rhinox's side. "Is it a stasis pod?"

"Nope. It's much too big to be a pod. It's a spaceship whose like has never been charted in Maximal history!" Everyone crowded behind Rhinox to get a look at the screen, including Rattrap.

"Is it a Pred ship?" Cheetor asked; his voice tight with apprehension.

"Negative; it isn't Predicon. I have never seen its like," rumbled Dinobot.

Optimus, with a note of command, said, "Rhinox, plot the ship's vector to crash point and time of impact."

"Already plotted," Rhinox responded, bringing up the data. "The ship will crash in roughly 14 cycles at Grid Markum. It will take 13 cycles to reach the crash point."

"Is there any way we can slow the craft's decent by accessing and overriding its computer with our own?" Primal asked.

The Maximal scientist slowly shook his head. "The ship's computer is too alien. I can't access it from here."

"Optimus," Silverbolt said suddenly. "Whoever is in the craft is in trouble and probably injured. That pilot is no threat right now, we must help him."

"Hey, wait a nano-click! Why should we do anythin'? Despite what 'Dinobutt' says, it's a Pred ship. It can't be anythin' else." Rattrap glared challengingly at Dinobot. "'Sides when dat thing crashes dere won't be enough left of it t' make a maintenance bot."

"You forget my origins, vermin! I am... I was...a Predicon. It is not a Predicon cruiser. Be silent when you are ignorant! In other words; never speak again!" Dinobot growled, taking a menacing step toward Rattrap.

Rattrap looked up at the larger bot without fear. "Try it, lizard breath. Come another step and I'll show ya silent!" He waved his hand in a come-hither gesture.

Silverbolt pushed between the two adversaries to confront Optimus. He stood straight with his wings half spread behind him. When he spoke, his voice was entreating. "Optimus, the readings indicate that the pilot has neither Predicon nor Maximal energy signatures. Grid Markum is in the outskirts of Megatron's territory. I don't think he is an enemy; he may even be an ally. We cannot let him fall into the clutches of the Predicons."

Rattrap and Dinobot still glowered at each other, but did not continue the argument. Dinobot, surprisingly, spoke up in agreement with Silverbolt.

"Which side the pilot is on is irrelevant. We must secure the craft and its contents before the Predicons do."

Cheetor advanced to the side of Silverbolt and Dinobot. "Big Bot, they're right. We---"

"Enough!" Primal spoke firmly, silencing any further discussion. "If you bots will let me get a word in edgewise; we will secure the craft and rescue the pilot. Rhinox, take over the scanners and comm-links. As for the rest of you: Silverbolt, Cheetor, come with me; Dinobot, Rattrap, follow us as quickly as possible."

Rhinox turned back to the console and said after a second, "13 cycles 'till impact."

"Okay bots, let's move! Maximum burn!" Optimus commanded, sprinting to the base hatch. The others piled in behind him.

Outside, the night was cool, and the moon shone full and bright. They could see the distant ship, flaring white with friction, already alarmingly close to the ground.

"Beast mode!" They cried, almost in unison. Bodies shifted and altered. Soon they were seeing with different pairs of eyes. With their new forms they gained new advantages, and new limitations.

The fliers, Silverbolt, Optimus Primal and Cheetor leapt into the air. Cheetor's rockets partially separated from his sides, flaring to life and driving him forward. Primal's motion gears, located on a sort of metal board at the base of his feet, did the same. Silverbolt flapped his wings strongly, propelling himself straight up until he caught a good head wind, where he stiffened his wings and soared.

Dinobot, in his deadly velociraptor form, was about to run after them. Rattrap's new body had the advantage of wheels, something his old normal rat body had never had.

"No, Chopperface, you're too slow!" Rattrap exclaimed, spinning his wheels and kicking up dust. "Change back t' robot mode an' hitch a ride!"

Dinobot shuddered in disgust. How degrading for a warrior to 'hitch a ride' on the back of vermin. Unfortunately, the rat was right. He complied.

* * *

At that very moment, the Predicon leader, Megatron, and his motley band of cohorts were racing towards the distressed aircraft. They had reached the same conclusion as the Maximals; the ship was neither Predicon nor Maximal. Unlike the Maximals however, they were not intent on a rescue.

Megatron was thinking of rather inventive tortures to use on the aviator with the purpose of extracting the maximum amount of information from him before he died of pain. Torture was always good for the spark

Inferno, his massive flamethrower at the ready, was on one side of Megatron. The bot's logic circuits were so scrambled; he was more ant than bot. As a soldier ant, his first, last and only thought was for the protection of his leader, or 'Queen' as he called Megatron. Megatron threatened the ant with dismemberment every time he called him that; unfortunately it never worked.

On Megatron's other side was Waspinator. The bug was an inept soldier with delusions of grandeur; but fortunately, he was too stupid to plot against the Pred boss. He also attracted missile fire like a magnet. Any bot that fought beside him was almost guaranteed to come out of the battle unscathed, while Waspinator would invariably have to be brought back to base in a very small box.

The others were following rapidly behind them. Tarantulus was an absolutely brilliant technician. The Transmetal arachnid was also devious and treacherous to the core. He made good time using his wheels, with Black Arachnia riding on his back.

Black Arachnia was also a spider and, like Tarantulas, she was as intelligent and equally as treacherous. Her deceitfulness was far subtler, however.

Quick-Strike was scuttling after them. He was a Fuzor; a rather disturbing mixture of snake and scorpion. The bot was a fool, but a good fighter. He was only dangerous when he had a leader to guide him.

They were only a few cycles away from the crash point. They would be there before the Maximals.

* * *

"Oh no," Rhinox murmured. Gazing with alarm at the screen, he activated the line-of-sight transmission. With any luck at all, Optimus would still be within range.

"Optimus!" he cried into the transmitter.

A reply came only a few seconds later. Although heavily garbled, it was still understandable.

"Optimus here. What ... the trouble?"

"The ship is breaking up! The rear section of the craft is tearing away from the bow. It can't take the heat!"

"Hard to under... you. Hav ... lost ... pilot?"

"I don't know. The life form is in the front of the ship. My computer is detecting activity there. It seems the pilot is now functional and is attempting to seal off the bridge. He might succeed, he might not; I can't tell."

There was a long pause. "...Will pr..eed to ... point. ...Might surv... Can't take ...chance. …Predic… might..."

The rest of his words dissolved into static.

* * *

"Rhinox. Rhinox, come in!" Primal was unable to get a response. "Slag!"

"What's wrong?" Cheetor asked, shouting to be heard over the wind. Silverbolt crowded in close to hear. Primal patched into Rattrap and Dinobot's comms so they could listen in, as well.

"The vessel is breaking apart! The rear of the ship is collapsing under the heat and friction of the atmosphere. Rhinox says the pilot is attempting to close off the bridge from the flames."

"What can we do? We've gotta help him!" Cheetor exclaimed, his cheetah-like face showing alarm.

"We can't do anything right now. All we can do is proceed to Grid Markum and hope the pilot can hold it together."

Silverbolt's face was grim as he flapped harder to their destination.

They had traveled wordlessly for a cycle when Dinobot's voice suddenly rasped through the intercom, breaking the silence. "Look!"

They raised their heads as one just in time to see the distant craft split in two with a brilliant detonation of flame. The larger rear portion, including the engines, spun off violently from the bridge. The smaller half continued spinning forward, dragging a fiery tail of debris in its wake, while the larger piece hurtled in the opposite direction.

"No," Silverbolt spoke in a barely discernible whisper.

The stern eventually crashed into the ocean with a huge spray of water, while the bridge fell below view, hidden by a rocky cliff.

The Maximals braced themselves for the inevitable explosion. Surprisingly, there were only the faint sounds of trees snapping like matchsticks and of metal gouging into packed earth with shocking force.

"What da slaggin' heck happened? Why didn't it explode?" came Rattrap's incredulous question after a half a cycle of astonished silence.

No one bothered to answer, for at that moment the fliers passed the cliff face. What was left of the craft was smoking; fire licked hungrily out of a partially opened hatch. Megatron with his gang of followers were already there, crowded as close to it as the fire would permit.

Megatron looked up at the three Maximals approaching from above. Dinobot and Rattrap were making their way down the cliff side; now separated and in robot form; they were grabbing for hand and foot holds, making good time. They would be there very soon. He looked up at the trio now hovering above them; weapons drawn. With a look of pure hatred and contempt, the Predicon shouted to them over the roar of the mounting flames.

"Leave here, Primal! You are outnumbered and outgunned. Yesss." He waved dramatically to his fellow Predicons, who had turned away from the wreckage and were now aiming their weapons at the other approaching bots. "The prize is ours, Maximals!" He spit out the last word like it was a curse.

"I think not, Megatron!" Primal gestured to the two beside him and at Rattrap and Dinobot, skidding to a halt beneath them. "Maximals, all weapons ready and..."

He never got to finish, for at that very moment something erupted from the unknown craft's hatch. What looked like a bag sailed through the air and landed in a shapeless bundle just out of reach of the flames. Following behind it, a form so enshrouded by smoke it was impossible to see what it looked like, emerged. They could only see flashes of gray, red and metallic silver.

"It survived! Astonishing!" Tarantulus exclaimed, echoing everyone's thoughts.

The pilot gave a sound somewhere between a choking gasp and a cough as it staggered backward from the now flame-engulfed craft. Maximal and Predicon alike looked on in amazement.

"By the Matrix! What is it?" Cheetor gasped, landing beside the other two fliers. The fliers all transformed to robot mode.

Tarantulus sniggered. "Can't you tell? Even you, you ignorant child, must have read the history tracks from the Great War. It's a human!"

All present gasped at his words, but they made sense.

The human was tall, a little taller than Optimus, but shorter than Dinobot. The human was a female, for even though humans were made entirely of flesh and bone, their shapes were similar. She was clad in a suit of silvery metal from her neck to her feet. Even though it was blackened from the soot and flames, and dented from the impact, the suit was obviously well crafted and elegant; designed to flatter as well as to function. Her hair, bedraggled and sooty, hung down her back in a heavy braid, the clean strands shining as red as the flames around her.

They took this all in the span of a moment, for the human whirled around at the sound of Tarantulus's voice. There was a band of the same color metal, scratched and dulled, encircling her forehead. Her large eyes were the soft blue color of glacier ice. Her face was streaked with ash.

Even though she was obviously still disoriented from the crash, when she saw them, her eyes narrowed. Her left hand went to her hip and grasped a deadly looking blaster. With blurring speed, she drew her weapon and pointed it at all of them.

"_Predico! Meadansa toi? Meaine nae pioletiorus! Dean nae!"_ Her voice challenged them.

"What is she saying?" Silverbolt sounded a little dumbfounded.

"Da first word sounded like 'Predicon'," Rattrap observed.

At Rattrap's remark the human trained her weapon on him. Her words were a snarl of hatred. _"Predico! Meadansa toi Eartha? Dean nea te!"_

Optimus held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "We mean you no harm. We are Maximals." He tapped his chest and gestured to each of his allies. Rattrap displayed the stylized fox symbol engraved on his arm, signifying that he was a Maximal. All the other Maximals with the exception of Dinobot, who had none, showed their emblems.

"_Maxicum? Arte witheires!"_ Relief was evident in her voice. Suddenly, her face tightened with pain. Clasping her side, she dropped to one knee; still holding her weapon in a death-grip, pointed now at the Predicons. She wrapped her right arm tightly around her ribs.

Both Predicons and Maximals had lowered their weapons, caught up in the drama of the moment. Except Megatron. With speed that rivaled the woman's earlier draw, he fired three rapid shots. The first was directed at Optimus, the second at Dinobot; the only two Maximals who had not let their guard down. The final one was aimed at the human. But she had a bit of warning with the first salvo. She fell to the ground, letting the plasma charge miss her by millimeters. Both sides began to fire at each other, diving for whatever cover they could find.

Dinobot was blasted flat on his back, but not seriously hurt. Hissing in rage and pain, he scrambled to his feet and dove behind a boulder where Silverbolt had already taken refuge. Optimus was in worse shape, however. The shot had taken him full in the chest plate. He was unconscious.

"Optimus!" Cheetor cried, standing up in full view of enemy fire. "We gotta help him!"

Rattrap grabbed him and threw him to the ground behind the fallen tree where they had taken cover. "Are ya nuts, Spots? You'll be creamed!"

"We can't just leave him there!"

"We won't," the Maximal replied, reaching for the demolition charges he always kept with him.

* * *

The Predicons had taken shelter in the nearly waist-deep fissure caused by the fallen craft.

Megatron rapped out orders while firing at the enemy. "Inferno! Circle around behind the Maximals and wait until I call for a retreat. When we are out of sight and they have let their guard down, grab the human! Disable it if you must, but do not kill it! It may be useful to us. Waspinator, grab that bag. Go!"

* * *

The human woman had ducked behind a massive tree that had been knocked down by her crashing ship. The ribs on the left side of her body were cracked; she was bruised and battered. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her injured body. Through the use of genetically enhanced healing techniques, she eased the pain and encouraged the mending of her bones and tissues. Within half a minute she was breathing easier. It would have to do until she could use the med-kit.

Her suit had taken heavy damage. The very latest in human- produced technology; she could literally control the Tech-Suit with her thoughts, as easily as she could move her arms and legs. And although it was not painful, she could still 'feel' each damaged circuit and fried memory chip. Fifty percent of the suit's computer chips were in need of repair or completely unusable.

She cautiously raised her head over the tree, assessing the situation. The Maximals were outnumbered six to four. The unconscious one she guessed was their leader.

Dierdre Joan McClananhan, commander of the best squadron in the Fleet, was nonplussed. None of this made sense. This planet she had crashed on was Earth; it had to be! The same familiar moon hung over familiar grasses and trees. The foliage suggested to her that she was somewhere in Southeast Africa. But the constellations were all wrong. They looked the same, but they were in the wrong position in the sky!

And why were there no hovercraft passing overhead? Even in the wilderness environments, you should still be able to hear the faint sonic booms of hovercraft zipping by. Engineers had made great strides in silencing the noise, but you could still hear it faintly. In this place however, there were no sonic booms, only the sounds of discharging weaponry.

What had happened? Why were the Predicons here? Why didn't the bots understand her? True, her translator was smashed, but everyone knew Galtwo! Their words were barely understandable; they seemed to speak a highly antiquated version of the Cybertronian language.

A dozen suspicions came to her: one prospect more unpleasant than all of them. Time travel had been a fact for humans for nearly two centuries. Several people had tried it; a few had even come back to tell the tale. The jump-point her wounded ship had plunged into was said to have an occasional Time-Flux. But the odds of her ship's safeguards failing just as one of these anomalies was taking place were astronomical.

And that still didn't explain why the bots were here...

She was startled out of her disturbing thoughts when one of the Maximals cried out the ancient name often given to leaders of a group of Maximals. "Optimus!" The other, smaller bot pulled him back to safety.

So she had been right, the injured one was their leader.

Their weapons were primitive, but very effective. They still used lasers and plasma bursts! Weapons from a hundred years ago. Apparently none of them had Personal Shields, although that was both Maximal and Human standard issue. This shielding protects the wearer from most hand-held weapons and even guards against the crushing vacuum of space. Intelligence reports state that even the Preds were now starting to wear their own version of PS.

The small Maximal, the one who had first shown her his emblem, pulled out a demolition charge just as two of the flying Preds rose out of the ditch. The larger one shot off parallel to the battle until he disappeared from view hidden by the tall, unbroken trees. The other went into a sloping dive, firing rapidly at the Maximals. He was approaching fast, heading straight towards... her bag.

"No!" She cried in Earth Anglic, cursing herself for a fool. Some of the equipment in that bag was irreplaceable. There was one thing in particular, a small data disk. The information contained in that disk was so vitally important to the Resistance that the Council had sent her entire squadron on a probable suicide mission just to retrieve it. So many of her comrades had died; and she had thrown it out of the air lock and forgotten it!

She quickly activated her Personal Shield, casting a faint blue radiance about herself. Thank Heaven and Infinity; it was still functioning! She did not take time to think. The disk was too important. Images of her dying comrades and friends flashed through her brain. She had to get that disk!

* * *

Rattrap activated the charge. It was set to go off on impact. He peered over the fallen tree, his eyes narrowing as he saw Waspinator begin his dive.

"Cover me!" He yelled to Cheetor.

The Transmetal rodent stood up in full view of the Predicons.

Cheetor grimly fired several bursts of energy, effectively keeping any heads from showing over the furrow. Rattrap threw the small bomb just as he saw the human run from cover. She was sprinting towards the bag. Waspinator would be practically on top of her when the charge hit him!

"Watch out!"

His warning went unheard; she did not see the charge. She fired her weapon at the Predicon but it missed. All he could do was watch in horror as the charge hit Waspinator in the side, blowing him into several large pieces. His wasping cry of "Not again!" rang in the air.

The smoke that resulted from the blast obscured the human. She must have received the force of it. He looked away.

"All right!" Cheetor cried suddenly, whacking Rattrap on the shoulder with a metallic clang. "Look! She's okay!"

Rattrap peeked quickly over the log. The woman was staggering, clutching her bag, but alive! "Wooohooo!"

Rattrap grabbed another charge, arming it. This one was designed to go off three seconds after impact. He suddenly heard one less Pred weapon firing. He looked and saw Quick-Strike draped over the furrow, unconscious. Silverbolt had taken him out.

The rodent tossed the charge high in the air. It arched and landed with a thump in the furrow. With cries and snarls of anger and dismay, the Predicons leapt out of the ridge; an instant before it went off. Even so, the force of the blast sent the Preds flying.

The battle was clearly on the side of the Maximals. Two of the Predicons were inactive, Inferno had mysteriously disappeared and the remaining Preds had been deprived of their cover. The bots had dived back into the remains of the trench, although it was now nothing more than a shallow crater, providing very little protection.

Rattrap, Cheetor and Silverbolt were undamaged; Dinobot only slightly injured. As for Optimus Primal; help for him came from a rather unexpected source. The human was on one knee in the dirt beside him; her bag slung by two straps on her shoulders. She was firing at the Predicons with her left hand. With her right, she touched their leader lightly on the shoulder. The faint cerulean radiance spread from her hand to completely envelop his body. This blue glow was apparently a shield of some kind, for the few shots that connected either with her or with Optimus simply bounced off. The human's only reaction was to sway a little with each blow.

The tide turned permanently when Dinobot blasted Megatron with his lasers. The twin shots pierced the Predicon leader's shoulder, neatly severing several wires and rendering his firing arm useless.

"Arrrggghhh!" He cried, more for effect than from pain. Now would be a perfect time to announce the 'retreat.' "Blast! Retreat, retreat!"

The defeated Preds ran like mad. Tarantulus grabbed Quick-Strike, none too gently, by the feet, while Black Arachnia darted into the line of fire and quickly snatched up the larger pieces of Waspinator. Weighed down by their burdens, the spiders staggered towards the promised cover of the forest. There were very few feelings of camaraderie between the Preds; they would have left the two there had Megatron had not ordered them to take them to safety. They reached the woods and vanished.

Rattrap and Cheetor whooped in celebration, leaping to their feet and giving each other a 'high five'. Silverbolt immediately abandoned his hiding place and walked towards the human and Optimus. Dinobot slowly did the same, looking almost cheerful as he always did after a victorious battle.

The woman removed her hand from Optimus Primal's shoulder, the blue light disappearing abruptly from both their bodies. She collapsed flat on the ground, still conscious but utterly exhausted. Optimus stirred, groaned and struggled to rise.

"Take it easy Big Bot," Cheetor said. Primal, clutching his chest, tried to stand but staggered. Cheetor's hand shot out, grabbing his leader by the elbow and supporting him until he was steady on his feet. Silverbolt knelt beside the human, who was breathing raggedly, pain wracking her body. The Personal Shield was a wonderful invention, but it taxed the body after a while and required mental acuity. She had little of either when the battle began; she had even less now. She was at the limits of her strength. All the healing techniques in the world could not block out the pain now. Her ribs were on fire.

"Are you all right?" Silverbolt asked. He did not expect her to understand, but she looked blearily up at him and gave a feeble smile.

"_Marte farquare,"_ She replied. After a second, she said, in such oddly spoken Cybertronian that it was difficult to understand, "Been better."

All the Maximals stared at her. She closed her eyes for a long moment before opening them again.

"Oh, boy," Rattrap muttered.

"Tell me what happened," Optimus ordered. They filled him in on everything that had happened, from the time Megatron blasted him to when the strange human saved him from the plasma bursts of the Predicon's weapons.

"Oh, she did, did she? Remarkable." He limped over to the human. "Thank you. I owe you my life." He said, giving her a quick salute.

"Welcome." She replied, slowly returning the salute and gazing with weary curiosity at the members of the group who surrounded her. The wolf-eagle bot was still kneeling beside her; while Optimus, the leader, stood a little off to the side, looking thoughtful. A huge reptilian bot towered over the rest; his arms crossed and face expressionless. The small silver and red one, who had used the explosives, was both curious and suspicious. The other merely smiled. She tried to raise her upper body for a better look around her. That was apparently a bad idea, for she emitted a tiny gasp and clutched her ribs.

"We've got to get her out of here," Optimus said. The wound in his chest sparked and he winced. "We're both injured. There's nothing left of her ship anyway." He gestured to the blackened hulk. The human's eyes followed his arm. She stared a little sadly at her old ship _Stardreamer_. If she had understood his archaic speech correctly, he was right.

"Yes, _rety loi gesta._ Destroyed," Dierdre agreed, mixing the two languages. She turned on her side and planted both hands firmly on the ground. With a mighty effort, she pushed herself to her knees and then to her feet. She forced herself to stand upright with her shoulders back as a pilot should. Silverbolt steadied her when she swayed. The human flashed him a brief grin of gratitude before turning back to the slightly shorter Primal.

"_Rety te pioletiorus han? Predico wati bacu._ Your ship? Where? Predicons back." She was frustrated. Communication had not been a problem between their two races for nearly a century since the introduction of a common trading language, Galtwo, and the making of the Universal Translator. Her UT was trashed and these Maximals did not seem to know the language. She hated having to talk like a two-year-old!

"The human is correct. Megatron has withdrawn, but he will return. To remain here much longer would be foolhardy," Dinobot hissed, glowering speculatively at her.

It took her a second to catch the gist of what he was saying, but when she did, she merely met his eyes and nodded her head. Dierdre recognized the difference in Dinobot at first glance. She had met a few Predicons-turned-Maximals in her life. They seemed to be all alike in that they had a certain grimness and humorless air about them. Oh, she had nothing against them; an old friend of hers was a Liberator Predicon (one who had defected after the Feylian Massacre); you just simply never smiled openly at them. They often regarded that as a weakness.

"Our ship is twelve cycles to the northwest. Not far. Can you travel?" Optimus asked, gesturing to her torso where she still had an arm wrapped around her side.

The human closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate inward for moment. During this time something remarkable, and very strange, happened. The metal armor along her back seemed to melt, becoming almost liquid and crawling around her shoulders and torso. At the base of her shoulder blades, under the bag, the liquid steel spread outward. The half formed shapes looked almost like wings and seemed on the verge of solidifying. Suddenly, the metal of her suit collapsed in on itself, returning to its original, if somewhat battered, shape.

"No, can not walk. Injured badly. No flight off-line, suit damaged. Repair." While she was talking in her oddly spoken version of Cybertronian, she had been looking at the still smoking remains of her craft. She turned back to them.

Cheetor and Silverbolt were staring at her with open-mouthed astonishment. Rattrap and Dinobot grimly looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. Although they were constantly at each other's throats, they were more alike than they realized. The human was not a threat now, but let her regain her strength and fix that suit of hers and she would be very powerful. She could either be a valuable ally or a formidable enemy. She must be kept under close observation.

Optimus Primal's instincts told him that she could be trusted. She had proven worthy of that trust; so far. However, he did not trust blindly. She was a new and unpredictable element to the Beast Wars. Complete trust would come later, for now she would have to be watched.

Dierdre was amused at their stunned expressions, although her face did not show it. These bots knew of humans, the spidery looking Predicon had confirmed this, but they'd probably never seen one. If she was right and she was two or more hundred years in the past, their shock was understandable. These bots probably postdated the Great War, but predated the Human Revelation. The Archives, created during that time, only spoke briefly of the human species. They had described them as a promising, intelligent and highly adaptable organic race, but still too primitive. It was recommended that they be left alone to develop at their own pace before they could join the Maximals as equals amongst the stars. The chronicles also implied that this development might take a very long time. She smiled to herself. The ancient Autobots had been very wrong with that rather superior assumption.

"Much to explain. Too much here. Must..."

She never got to finish that statement. Two flame bursts blasted the ground near them with tremendous force, knocking them off their feet and throwing them backwards, momentarily stunned. Dierdre was flung onto her stomach a little apart from the others. Her poor abused ribs were slammed against each other. The resulting pain was so intense she nearly blacked out.

In the instant before the Maximals could recover and get to their feet, Inferno came screaming from the treetops where he had been hiding, waiting for the proper moment. He flew over the stunned forms of the Maximals. Silverbolt fired at him with one of his missiles, but he was disoriented and the shot went wild. Laughing crazily, Inferno grabbed Dierdre by the bag still slung over her shoulders. She struggled feebly but was still nearly unconscious. He lifted her into the air.

By this time, the remaining bots were all on their feet. Everyone drew their weapons.

"No!" Optimus commanded. "They are too close together. You might hit her! Silverbolt, Cheetor, come with me!"

Silverbolt, with wings extended, simply leapt into the air and took off. Optimus and Cheetor transformed back to beast mode. Cheetor, while not able to fire his weapons while in beast mode, would still be useful. They followed quickly.

Dinobot growled lowly, his optics narrow slits of crimson. He disliked being excluded from a battle. It lacked honor. Rattrap was not short on courage, but he had a more philosophical view of the situation. The fewer battles he was in the less likely he was to get slagged.

"Let her go!" Silverbolt snarled, aligning himself with the fast rising Inferno. They were now very high up; the two bots left on the ground were tiny in comparison. If the human were to fall from this altitude, it would be fatal.

Inferno merely laughed. "Fool! The Royalty commands this creature be brought to him. I will do so; and you will buuuurrrrrnn!" The ant held onto the human with one hand, drawing his flame weapon with the other. He fired a blast of continuous flame at Silverbolt. The bot flexed his wings and turned sharply, barely missing the blaze.

The smell from the weapon discharge forced Dierdre fully awake. She looked down at the ground very, very far below her and gave a small involuntary scream of fright. This was too much! A sudden shot tore the flame-thrower from Inferno's hand and sent it spinning away into the night. Optimus Primal and Cheetor had arrived. She took heart when she saw the three Maximals had the Predicon surrounded. She knew they would not let her fall.

Cheetor fought for more elevation, rising above the Predicon. Optimus glided to the other side of Inferno, opposite to Silverbolt. They kept pace with him even though he drove himself forward at maximum burn, dodging and twisting.

"Give her to us, insect! We have you surrounded. Release her and we'll let you leave here in peace," Optimus decreed, shouting over the sound of the wind whistling over their fast moving bodies.

Inferno glared contemptuously at him. "Never!" He suddenly grasped the woman around the throat with his free hand. "If one of you comes any closer, I will destroy the human!" He tightened his grip around her esophagus, inducing choking noises from her.

Dierdre locked eyes with Optimus. He saw a warning look in her expression. She was trying to tell him to be ready; she was about to attempt something very dangerous.

The human clutched the metallic hand that was encircling her neck; hoping that the Maximal leader had understood her unspoken message. She closed her eyes and focused.

Primal had seen the warning in her gaze. He motioned with his hand for Silverbolt to drop below them and wait. He had seen that same look of concentration only a few cycles before when she had caused her suit to melt and assume a different shape.

No sooner had Silverbolt moved away, the human woman acted. Blue electricity, the same color as her shield, shot from her armor-decorated fingers. The electricity surged up Inferno's arm to envelop his entire body. He gave a scream of pain and rage, his fingers convulsively loosening from her throat.

At that same moment, one of the straps on the bag, which had been bearing the weight of a full-grown woman with heavy armor, ripped loose, tearing a large hole in the material. Most of its contents spilled, raining down on Silverbolt's head and falling to the forest floor far below. Dierdre's right shoulder slipped from the strap. The other followed a second later. She fell.

She did not fall far. Silverbolt was waiting for her. Her limp and unconscious body slammed into his arms.

Diving, Cheetor planted his front paws hard onto Inferno's back. The Pred gave vent to another shriek of rage and lashed out blindly with his arm. It connected savagely with the right side of the young Maximal's head, stunning him. Cheetor slid off Inferno's back and began to tumble downward.

"Cheetor!" Optimus cried. He abandoned the Predicon ant and swooped down after his fast falling friend. Reaching out with a desperate hand he snatched, and held on to, one of Cheetor's flailing hind limbs.

Cheetor came to his senses an instant later. Groaning and shaking his head, he looked up at Optimus.

Optimus smiled in relief. "If you're done napping..."

Cheetor grinned back and activated his thrusters, which had shut down during his descent. Optimus released his foot and let him fly on his own.

"Thanks, Big Bot. Where'd the bug go?" Cheetor's optics scanned the now empty sky above them. Inferno had disappeared, taking with him the tattered remains of the woman's pack. A pack that contained a few pieces of replaceable equipment, some personal items, and one small, unimportant looking data disk.

Silverbolt flapped his wings and glided next to them, gently holding the still form of the human. "I saw him fly into the cover of the forest. Inferno is long gone."

"No matter," Optimus replied. "We got what we came for."

Optimus Primal touched his arm, activating the comm link. "Optimus to Rattrap and Dinobot. Come in."

A static-filled reply came an instant later. "Dinobot here. What is the situation?"

"We were successful. The human is unconscious, but alive. We are returning to base. Proceed to coordinates 451 and 452. The human's equipment fell around that area. Bring back anything you can find, salvageable or not."

"Affirmative," Dinobot growled.

"Be careful."

Rattrap's sarcastic voice could be faintly heard through Dinobot's comm. "You got dat right, Big Ape! Sheesh, ya always give me da slag jobs! Why I otta..."

"Silence, vermin!" Dinobot's exasperated shout cut through Rattrap's tirade.

"Watch it lizard, or I'll rearrange your hard drive!"

"Go rummage through garbage, you useless..."

With a long suffering sigh, Optimus cut off the link, effectively silencing them both. Once they got through arguing, they would get the job done. He hoped.

"Let's go home," he told the other two.

They flew wearily towards their base, the rising sun at their backs.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Two megacycles later, Dinobot and Rattrap had finally made it back with the human's equipment. Every bot except for Optimus and Dinobot were seated at the main console located in the center of the ship's bridge, with the equipment strewn on the table in front of them. Dinobot and Optimus were being repaired in the two Restoration Chambers positioned at the corners of the bridge. Dinobot's injuries were minor, so he would emerge in the next few cycles. The repair to Optimus's chest plate was almost complete. He had been in there for over a megacycle and would come out soon after Dinobot.

"What do you make of these things, Rhinox?" Cheetor asked, gesturing to the oddly shaped devices. There were eight items.

"These six are easy, it's those two over there that I'm not sure about." Rhinox ignored the two objects that had been shoved a little apart from the others, and picked up one of the six objects positioned in front of him. The device was diminutive in his huge hand, obviously built for smaller, more delicate fingers. It was wafer thin, silver like the color of the human's suit, and in the shape of an octagon. There was a smaller raised octagon in the center that looked like glass.

"This is a miniature holographic projector. You just press the octagon in the center..." Rhinox pressed the area indicated and moved his thumb out of the way.

A small, three-dimensional image hovered a few inches above the projector. The picture was of four humans, two big and two small. The larger two were male and female; the male was holding the woman in front of him with both arms around her waist. A half- grown boy held a little girl with red hair and blue eyes balanced on his hip, while the woman's hands rested comfortably on the boy's shoulders. They were all smiling and seemed very content.

The big green scientist pressed the button again; this time the image was of two human women, their arms around each other's shoulders. The taller one on the right was a later version of the little girl in the first picture. Rhinox pushed the button twice rapidly and the images disappeared. He passed it to Silverbolt.

"This next one is a scanner." Rhinox showed them a small device meant to fit in the palm of a human's hand. The gadget was mostly screen, with three small buttons and a dial on both sides. He gave it to Silverbolt. Cheetor had the holo projector turned on and was flipping through the pictures. "Hey guys, look at this one." Cheetor held up the holo projector. The image was of the woman, and a Maximal. They were shaking hands and smiling. By their relaxed demeanor, they seemed to be friends.

"Hmmmm," was Rhinox's only response. Things were getting stranger and stranger. The more they found out about this human, the less they knew.

"This one took a little while to figure out, but it appears to be a portable transporter." He picked up an instrument that was vaguely triangular in shape. It was the second largest of the items, about six inches long and three inches wide. A small picture shaped like a sleek, streamlined battle-ship was etched on the front. Indecipherable lettering was engraved beneath it.

Rattrap whistled, impressed despite his feigned disinterest. Neither the Preds nor the Maximals had technology like that.

"I believe it attaches somewhere on her suit. How it is activated, or even how it works; is a mystery to me." The inquisitive Maximal picked up the fourth item. The device was slightly longer than all the other ones and shaped like a metal rod.

"This is an all-purpose repair kit of a remarkably sophisticated design. There are no buttons of any kind. All I have to do is think of a tool and it becomes the tool I want. Watch." Rhinox concentrated for a second. The rod seemed to melt in his hand and reshape itself. It just a couple of nano-clicks, he held a small hammer. It was too small for him to use properly, but it was the right size for a human hand.

"This device is composed of the same metal as her suit. I've never seen anything like this; there's no record of this kind of metal in all the history of Cybertron. I scanned it with the ship's computer. The very atoms of this tool, and of her suit, are apparently unstable in their natural state. The people who made this device were able to harness and stabilize these atoms, forcing them to react and become active only when a Human or Maximal thought wave pattern is directed at them with specific instructions. They'll obey the mental command, and become dormant again."

Rhinox passed the repair kit to the waiting bots. He was about to continue with the next item when a beep and the sound of releasing air pressure cut off further conversation. The door of Dinobot's CR chamber opened upwards and he stepped out. The Maximal warrior rotated his now undamaged shoulder and stalked over to the others. He sat in the unoccupied chair next to Cheetor.

"How do you feel?" Cheetor asked him.

Dinobot rumbled deep in his throat and replied, "Satisfactory. What have you learned?"

Rhinox filled him in on what he had discovered so far.

"I've never seen a communicator like this before," Rhinox continued, lifting up a device folded in on itself. He flipped it open. The bottom half had three small buttons and a dial. "I get nothing but static of course, but it doesn't rely on line-of-sight like a laser pulse. It's powerful enough to penetrate the atmosphere, or to be heard halfway around this planet. Also, it's not affected by Energon emissions. It's incredibly powerful, especially for such a small device."

Rhinox closed the communicator, set it down and touched a small metal box. It rattled as he picked it up. "This is a box of microchips. Each one is designed for a specific purpose. I believe they are spares for her suit.

"From what you all have told me, and from my own observations, this armor of hers is of an incredibly complex design. Like the repair kit, it responds to thought waves, but her suit will only respond to her specific brain patterns. This suit is attached directly to her nervous system. Because of this, it's an extension of her body.

"Our beast forms are a melding of secondary organic components with our original primary robotic selves. With her the principle is the same, but reversed. Her flesh is the primary and the metal of her suit, secondary."

"Wait a second here, are ya tryin' to tell us dat dis creature is a Human Transformer!" Rattrap spoke in disbelief.

"Yes, that is exactly what I'm trying to say. If my theory is correct, this human is from a future far beyond ours. In the time we came from, humans didn't have anything close to this kind of technology."

"What of these two? Surely you have found out something?" Silverbolt asked him, gesturing at the two unknown objects. One was a six-inch square, very flat, with no buttons of any kind on it. The last one was shaped like a cube, with the edges rounded.

Rhinox sighed in tired frustration, shook his head, and replied, "I have no idea what they are. There are no buttons or dials of any kind, and they are only activated by human thought patterns. Unlike the repair kit, it will not respond to Maximals."

"Guess we'll have to find out from her," Cheetor said.

"The human should be placed in a more secure location," Dinobot grumbled, displeasure evident in his voice. "It could be a danger to us all. It should be in the brig where it can be kept under closer observation."

"Oh, come on Dinobot, you don't actually believe that _she_ is a threat? She saved Big Bot from the Preds. She obviously hates Predicons, and she trusted us enough to talk to us after the battle." Cheetor said, glaring up at him.

"As much as I hate t' admit it," Rattrap began, rising from his seat and leaning on the table with his palms, "I gotta agree with Chopperface. This ape lady just dropped outta da sky for no reason. She may seem t' be an ally, but did ya see what dat nutty suit of hers did at a thought? Dat armor was badly slagged, but what about after she repairs it? Personally, I don't wanna be around if she decides t' go ballistic on us."

"While Optimus thinks she's trustworthy, he's not a fool. We discussed the situation and thought it best to put her where she is." Rhinox pressed a button on the table's console, bringing up an image of the human's quarters. The Axalon had been designed to house twice the number of bots than were on the ship, so there were plenty of extra cabins.

The cabin's door had been rewired to open only from the outside. They had taken away her blaster and placed it on one of the secondary consoles in the bridge. Since they could not remove her suit, they had left it alone. There was a camera mounted in the corner of the room.

The human female was lying on the hard metal bed, still unconscious. Her forehead was wrinkled and her head moved slightly from side to side; troubled by pain-filled dreams.

"She is secure enough, and more comfortable than she would have been in the brig. The camera's sensor will warn us when she wakes up," Rhinox concluded. He turned off the image.

At that moment, Optimus Primal's CR chamber opened with a beep and a low hiss of pressure. Optimus stepped out. There was no damage to his chest and he seemed refreshed and alert.

"Hello team," he said, in answer the greetings from those already seated. He looked curiously at Rattrap and Dinobot, and the objects strewn about the table.

"Was this all the equipment that you were able to find?" He asked them, sitting down on the last seat between Rhinox and Rattrap.

"Yep, Fearless Leader. Some pretty weird things we found too! Rhinox, tell 'im."

Feeling like a broken data disk, Rhinox gave Optimus the short version of what he had discovered about the human and her things.

"Interesting," Optimus responded. "Has she awakened yet? She's the answer to all our questions."

"No, she hasn't stirred since you brought her in," Rhinox answered tiredly. He still hadn't gotten any sleep, and it didn't seem like he was going to be getting any anytime soon.

Before any more words were shared, there was a sudden klaxon of sound, and the computer's soft male voice was heard over the intercom.

"Warning! The human's life-readings are fluctuating. Unable to establish a reliable reading. Warning! Dramatic fluctuation in human life form readings."

"Computer! Put on visual." Optimus commanded, leaning forward.

The computer complied, displaying the three-dimensional image of the human's room. She was obviously in great distress, thrashing around on the hard bed. There was no sound patched into the room, but if there had been, they would have been able to hear her screams.

Optimus wasted no time. He immediately leapt from his seat and raced down the corridor towards her quarters, followed closely by the others. Reaching the door a few nano-clicks later, he quickly entered the code into the keypad beside the door to release the magna-seal.

While he was entering in the code, he spoke to the others behind him. "Rhinox, Rattrap, you two come with me. The rest of you stay outside the door. It's too small in there to hold all of us."

The door slid open; revealing the human still twisting and twitching on the bed. She had stopped screaming, but was still in the grip of whatever trouble was plaguing her. She showed no signs of awakening when the door opened and the three Maximals entered.

"What's wrong with her, Rhinox?" Optimus grasped her firmly by the shoulders, trying to keep her from damaging herself. She only struggled more violently.

Rhinox quickly scanned the human with a medical sensor he had rigged earlier to compensate for her organic nature.

"Based on the readings I took on her earlier, she's in a state of mental agitation. She's experiencing succubus, and in her wounded state, further accentuated the..." Rhinox began.

"Whoa! Wait a nano-click! Say it again; in Cybertronian, perhaps?" Rattrap cut in, sounding exasperated.

Rhinox shrugged. "She's having a nightmare."

"What? Dat's it? Well den..." Rattrap stalked over to the head of the bed, leaned over and spoke loudly into her ear. "Yo, Monkey Gal! Naptime's over! Wake up!"

"Rattrap," Optimus began, as the smaller Maximal snapped his fingers next to her face. "Don't..."

Suddenly, the woman's body went rigid and her eyes flew open. She focused her pain-filled vision on the face of Rattrap. Still caught up in the horror of her dream, she didn't see him; she saw another face; a hated one.

With the speed of a striking snake, her right hand clamped around his like a vice.

"Ganitron!" she snarled.

In one fluid motion, she twisted out of Optimus's restraining hands and landed feet first on the opposite side of the bed; still holding on to Rattrap's wrist. Before any of them could act, she displayed a surprising amount of strength by lifting Rattrap off the ground with that same hand and literally tossing him across the room.

He sailed through the air with a cry of consternation and collided with Dinobot, who was just stepping in the doorway. They both hit the floor.

"Accursed rodent!" Dinobot said with a growl of distaste. He shoved Rattrap off of him, scrambled to his feet and drew his sword. He advanced on the human.

The woman, ignoring her injuries and the stabbing pain, drew herself up into an easy combative stance. She focused her thoughts to the suit. The system that she activated had not been damaged in the crash; it responded instantly to her request. The metal on her left hand became a liquid. Separating from her hand, it began to form a particularly vicious looking sword. The hilt solidified firmly in her grasp, while the edged blade stretched away from her hand to end in a slightly curved, razor sharp point. The newly formed blade glittered in the dim light.

This transformation took place in the space of a moment. Dinobot halted his advance for a surprised instant as he stared at the glistening blade held expertly in the woman's hand. He snarled in rage at being taken so by surprise. With his rotary sword held lightly in one clawed hand, he beckoned with the other. She strode forward.

"Enough!" Optimus roared, stopping everyone in their tracks. He stepped between the human and Dinobot, blocking their advances.

The woman lowered her sword in surprise. She blinked rapidly, focusing on them for the first time. Memories came flooding back to her; the crash, the battle, and the aerial rescue. She swayed a little and put her right hand on the cold metal of the wall, steadying herself.

"_Thena rotuneau_. Apologies. Did not recognize.. _weia_ ..you." She raised her hands in a gesture of peace. The sword lost its solidity and melted into her hand; resuming its former gauntleted shape. "Everyone put up your weapons."

"But..." Rattrap began, his blaster still pointed at her. He lightly rubbed his shoulder, which now sported a small dent, with the other hand.

"Now!" Primal commanded.

With a muttered word best not repeated, Rattrap holstered his weapon. The others followed suit.

Dinobot was the last to comply. He received a hard look from Optimus. Grudgingly, he sheathed his sword and stepped back, glaring at the shorter human all the while. She merely met his eyes without fear and said nothing.

She turned to look at Optimus and said, "Optimus. _Thena nema._ Thank you. Saved my life."

"You're welcome. Now tell us, what happened? Why are you here?" Perhaps they would finally get some answers!

"Long story. No words tell you. _Gruentda_... Translator... broken." She tapped the thin metal band that encircled her forehead.

"Well, that's just Prime," Optimus sighed.

"Optimus," Silverbolt spoke, causing all eyes to turn upon him. "Perhaps we should allow her to repair her translator. If she can use the equipment we were able to salvage, perhaps then she will tell us what we want to know."

The human put a hand to her ribs and winced a little. "Yes," she said; her voice earnest and entreating, "Tell you. Equipment _yastrea_. No tricks."

Optimus Primal turned to Cheetor. "Cheetor; bring the human's equipment, but leave her weapon and the transporter behind."

The young bot nodded and disappeared out of the doorway. He returned a few moments later, arms laden with the equipment requested. He brought the items over to the single table in the right corner of the room and carefully placed them there.

"_Thena nema, Maxicum._" The human said to him. She descended upon the familiar objects eagerly, everything else forgotten in her excitement.

As she looked through the equipment, Optimus slowly backed up until he was even with a rather sullen Rattrap. He leaned over and spoke to him in a low whisper. He knew that Dinobot was also listening intently to his words, even though the bot was standing a little in front and to the side of them, moving not an iota. "Keep your weapons holstered, but be ready. There is no reason not to trust her, so far. But I'm not taking any chances. Watch her."

Rattrap nodded almost imperceptibly. Dinobot simply folded his arms. They had gotten the message.

While this interchange was taking place, the woman's excitement was replaced by alarm. There were several items missing; but they were not what caused her distress. The data disk was not here.

There was no use in trying to ask the Maximals where it was. What little of their language she could understand was spoken so oddly as to be nearly incomprehensible. She must fix her translator before anything useful could be learned on either side.

Fighting down her panic, she yanked the circlet off her head and turned it so she could see the curved inside. She made part of the metal of the circlet pull back, exposing the damaged microchip. Picking up the tool kit with her left hand, she gave it a silent command. It molded itself to her wishes, the tip becoming a tiny pronged instrument. She began her work.

Rhinox moved behind the human and watched her repairs with intense interest. The microchip was fairly standard; though of an advanced design. He would have had no difficulty in duplicating the translator, if it were not for one thing. The microchip contained a minuscule mechanism unlike anything the Maximal had ever seen. He postulated that it was what stabilized the metal's atoms and made the whole thing work.

But he could not be sure. He longed to take the tiny device apart. He did not think the human would agree to that, however.

The repair took less than five minutes of Dierdre's concentrated efforts. It was a simple procedure; all she had to do was reroute the current from the main SH4 circuit to the standby. She had noted the large bot's interest. Apparently the scientist of the group, he was doing exactly what she would have done had the situation been reversed. He was learning as much as possible through observing her while she worked. She suspected he had already discovered a great deal just from those few minutes.

However, if she was correct on the time period, he had no idea what the SH4 circuit was. Even if he did it was irrelevant. If he duplicated the microchip, he could never make it work. The chip was useless unless attached to the unstable Falchonite2 alloy to act as a catalyst. She knew they did not have a supply of the Falchonite2 metal. It was a rare metal found on a remote planet; its location so secret only United Earth's highest officials, and a few trusted others like herself, even knew it existed. The Maximals were Earth's closest allies, but the High Council of Earth thought it too dangerous to trust their secret to the Maximal Council of Elders. There were traitors everywhere. The woman placed the instrument carefully on the hard metal bed. She molded the metal over the now repaired microchip and placed it back on her head.

"Greetings Maximals," She spoke, in now flawless Cybertronian, "I thank you for all your help. If you will bear with me for a moment longer, I will do what I can to shed some light on the situation. I have several questions that I would like answered, myself. I need only a few minutes more."

"We have waited this long; we can wait a few more cycles." Optimus said amiably. "Proceed."

Dierdre flashed him a quick smile and bobbed her head in gratitude. She turned to the devices on the table and picked up the rounded square.

With a silent command, the top of the instrument opened, revealing several small hypos. She pulled one out, checked to make certain it was the right dosage, and moved the metal back from her arm to press the stylus against the now exposed appendage. With a tiny hiss, the high-pressured needle pierced her flesh. She felt a slight flush as the painkiller surged through her system. The sudden absence of pain caused her to drop her shoulders slightly. She pulled out two more hypos; one designed to promote natural healing; the other to strengthen her and clear her head. She injected them and placed the now empty hypos into the box. She closed the lid.

With a sigh of relief, the woman placed the box on the bed and turned to the Maximals, feeling a thousand times better and much more alert. She spread her hands out slightly from her sides and smiled. "Thank you for your patience."

Optimus inclined his head in acknowledgment. "If you will come with me..." He gestured with his hand towards the door.

"Of course," she replied, striding past him, following the backs of Cheetor, Rhinox and Silverbolt as they walked down the dimly lighted hall. She felt an escalation of excitement, although it did not show on her face. It was the Human Revelation all over again; in a way. These Maximals were learning for the first time that humans are not the primitives depicted in the Archives. She now knew what her great-great grandfather had felt when he made first contact with the Maximals so many years ago!

Yet she knew she had to tread carefully. These were not the Maximals she knew. They may yet prove to be hostile, though her instincts; and her recent experience, told her otherwise. She must gain their trust, which would not be easy. One of the Maximals in front of her, the one who had brought her equipment, turned his head and smiled slightly at her. She smiled back, taking an instant liking to him. The three who preceded her would not be a problem. The three who were behind her were another matter.

Optimus seemed inclined to trust her; but if he were the type of leader she thought he was, he would not depend solely on his instincts. She suspected he already had a plan to deal with her should the need arise. The small ratty looking one, who was glaring holes into her back, had a good reason not to like her. She kicked herself mentally. Throwing someone against a bulkhead was not an acceptable way to earn trust and good feeling. The last one, the huge, sinister Predicon-turned-Maximal radiated outright dislike. He would be the hardest of all to convince of her good intentions.

They emerged into what was obviously their bridge. She noted her blaster and transporter were on one of the secondary consoles. They were within view, but out of reach, for they were suspended in midair with a high-powered force field. She nodded her head ever so slightly. She would not have expected anything else.

Optimus gestured to a seat at the main console in the center of the bridge. She complied, sitting down slowly as she watched the bots. Optimus took a seat directly opposite to her, while the others sat on either side. The big, dangerous reptilian one stood, with his arms crossed, directly behind her. She twisted around in her seat and looked at him narrowly. He made her distinctly uncomfortable. But that was the whole point after all. That and to prevent her from making a break for the door or the blaster.

"Well..."Optimus said, obviously waiting for her to begin.

She cleared her throat. "There is something I must know before I begin. It's vitally important. Where's the disk?"

Silverbolt looked as baffled as the rest when he asked, "What disk are you referring to?"

"The data disk," She answered impatiently, "A small rectangular disk with black and white markings. Please, I must have it! The future of both your world and mine may depend on what it contains."

"We do not have any such disk. Perhaps it is still in the forest where it fell," Optimus speculated, glancing over at Rattrap.

Rattrap's reply was snappish. "Not a chance. Lizard-butt and I went over da area with a fine-toothed comb. It ain't in da woods."

She looked suspiciously at each of them. Their expressions varied widely, from open innocence to outright dislike. As with humans, bots have certain giveaways that any well-trained individual could use to distinguish truth from fiction. Her suit's optic sensor and her own training told her they were telling the truth, as they knew it to be. She closed her eyes in frustration for a moment. Life simply wasn't fair. "Then the Predicons have it," she gritted, pushing back her chair abruptly. It collided with the menacing one behind her, causing him to step back a pace. Enough to allow her to slide out. She was nearly inside the turbolift before a hand shot out and wrapped around her arm. It was the kind, wolf-looking one with the wings who had helped her when she was so weak after the first battle.

"Stop!" He cried, bringing her to a halt as the others stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her way. "What do you think you are doing? It's too dangerous."

"You want to go against all six Preds single-handedly? That's suicide!" The young one with the spots said.

"You do not understand." Her ribs were beginning to complain again. "I must retrieve the disk; you don't comprehend its importance."

She turned to the one who still gripped her arm firmly. "You have all been very kind to me, and I thank you for that. Please let go of me, I have no desire to hurt you."

The big green scientist spoke reasonably to her. "If this disk is as important as you say, surely there are some safeguards protecting it. That should buy us some time to prepare."

Dierdre sighed. "Yes, of course there are safeguards; several in fact. If everything goes as it should, it would take even the most brilliant code-breaker at least six solar cycles to crack the code. That's under ideal situations." She looked at Rhinox fiercely, tearing her arm away from the kind one's grasp. "But no plan is fool-proof; no code impregnable. There are a thousand things that could go wrong. My life is nothing compared to retrieving the disk before that possibility occurs."

The metal gauntlet encasing her hand melted and reshaped with startling speed. She held the deadly weapon easily, regret shining in her eyes. The Maximals began to draw their weapons, but Optimus stopped them with a gesture.

"No. We will not let you leave this place now. Even if you were able to fight your way through us, it would be foolhardy in the extreme to leave as you are now, with only a sword to defend yourself with. Despite your obvious improvement, you are still injured. Your suit is damaged severely, and you do not have your primary weapon." Optimus said firmly, pointing to the blaster still suspended by the force field some distance away. "You would be destroyed, and the Predicons would still have the disk. Nothing would have been accomplished except your own demise."

All the energy seemed to drain from her. She allowed the sword to return to its original, deceptively harmless, shape. Everything they said was the truth, but it was hard, so very hard, not to at least try. She had failed all who had depended on her; her squadron; her friends; her leaders.

"You're right, unfortunately. My squadron and I risked everything to get that disk. I lost many friends to the Predicons during that mission. Against all odds, we were able to steal the disk and its vital contents from the very heart of the Predicon Empire. To have sacrificed so much, and now this..." She shook her head, and gave a small sigh.

The human gathered herself up and looked at Optimus. "You have convinced me, for now. But I promise you, as soon as my armor is repaired and I am recovered, nothing, not even you, will stop me."

"Agreed. For the moment, will you please just sit down and tell us about how you came to be here?"

She reluctantly returned to her seat. The woman waited until the others had returned to their original positions before beginning her tale.

She ran her fingers through her flaming red hair before letting her hand fall to her lap. Straightening her shoulders, she began to speak. "My name is Dierdre McClananhan, and I am a Commander in the United Earth army. I was returning with what remained of my squadron from the mission I mentioned earlier, when we were assailed by a fleet of Ganitron's fighters. We sent out a distress signal to the homeworld, but we knew it would take too long for them to reach us."

"My squadron fought valiantly against them, but we were outnumbered and outgunned. We were forced to retreat, with the enemy at our heels. We reached a Jump-Point. Of all my crew, only four of my people remained. The rest…were destroyed by Ganitron's forces. The remaining ships of my squadron made it safely through the Jump, but my craft was damaged as I passed through."

"You know how Jumps work; the slightest miscalculation will throw you off course. That's what happened to me. Stardreamer's controls were frozen, so I was unable to maintain control of my ship. Apparently a Time-Flux was taking place at the exact moment I went through.

"The safeguards that would have protected me from such a Flux had been damaged. Not only was I thrown off course, I was thrown through Time. Somewhere in that maelstrom I must have lost consciousness, because when I opened my eyes I was plunging through the atmosphere of this planet. The rest you know.

"You knew what I was, but were shocked at the equipment I carry. I know I am on Earth, I would recognize my home no matter what time I was in. But when I was falling through the atmosphere my scanners picked up no signs of human habitation. Nor any trace that there ever was." She leaned forward; an intense expression on her face, "Just how far back did I go?"

The Maximals looked at each other. Optimus began to relate his own tale. "A similar thing happened to us. We were pursuing the Predicons, who had stolen an item of great value to the Maxmials. We followed them through a Warp Jump and we were pulled with them has they plunged through Time in an effort to escape us. Both ships were damaged in an orbital battle over your world, and crashed, just as you did. We only recently discovered ourselves just how far back we had come."

Optimus expression was sympathetic when he continued, "This may come as a shock to you, but we are over three million years in your past. I'm sorry."

"_Haave!_" Dierdre exclaimed. The translator remained silent, for the word had no Cybertronian equivalent. Overwhelmed, she scrubbed her face with her hands, rubbing away the last of the ashes from the fire. "Incredible!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Two  
**

Chapter Three

The silence stretched for a long moment before it was broken by one Maximal's hesitant voice, "My name is Cheetor."

One by one, each of the Maximals introduced themselves. Silverbolt, Optimus and Rhinox were very polite in their introductions. Rattrap's was given with a mocking bow, while Dinobot reluctantly growled out his name, as if he didn't think these proceedings were necessary.

The human shook herself out of her stupor and inclined her head, "A pleasure to meet all of you, formally."

Dierdre turned slightly in her chair to face Optimus. "Just before I crashed the rear half of my ship was torn away from the bow. Did you see where it landed? Did the engines explode?"

"No they didn't. The stern just ripped away and spun off from the bow. I don't know how badly it was damaged, but it appeared basically intact when it crashed into the ocean nearly four klicks from where we found you."

"It crashed into the ocean?" Optimus nodded, seeming almost apologetic. "Well, that's just perfect." Dierdre said wearily.

"It might be better than you think." Optimus replied, "We don't have an aquatic capable beast mode, but neither do to the Predicons. That'll give us a few solar cycles to rig something up."

"You're right." She said, visibly brightening, "The main compartment is most likely flooded, but the engine and storage rooms had their own blast doors. My ship's computer should have shut them automatically as soon as I entered the atmosphere. Once I retrieve the disk, I'll be able to go down there myself and see what can be salvaged."

"So now ya sayin', your suit can turn ya into a slaggin' fish?" Rattrap asked, his voice laden with sarcasm.

Dierdre merely smiled mysteriously and tapped the circlet on her forehead. "The miracles of modern technology, Maximal."

Rattrap raised an eye ridge and was about to reply when Optimus interjected, "I don't like the idea of you going down there alone. However," he lifted his hand to stop the human from speaking, "That's an argument for another time. It is full daylight now and we have duties to perform. We'll have plenty of time to get to know our new comrade later."

Primal rose from his seat. The other Maximals, and one solitary human, followed suit. "You all know what you need to do. Get to your stations. Except for you, old friend," he said to Rhinox, who was about to move wearily to one of the computer consoles. "Get some rest. You've earned it."

Rhinox smiled and nodded his head. He transformed and lumbered off to his quarters, his huge feet vibrating the deck with each step. One at a time, the other Maximals filed out of the bridge, each heading for different parts of the ship. Dinobot transformed to beast mode and stomped down the left corridor, the gloom swallowing him up immediately.

Before heading down the center corridor, Silverbolt stopped by Dierdre and gave a small bow, "Welcome to the Axalon."

Dierdre smiled warmly. "Thank you, Silverbolt. I remember what you, Cheetor and Optimus did for me. I'm in your debt."

"Not at all, my lady. It was our pleasure," the winged bot replied.

Rattrap rolled his optics and made a gagging noise as he pushed his way past them and disappeared into the right-hand corridor. Cheetor gave Dierdre a 'thumbs-up' as he was walking away. She returned the gesture. The young bot grinned and bounded down the right-hand passage after Rattrap. Faint cries of anger could be heard as the exuberant feline nearly ran over Rattrap in his haste.

Optimus shook his head and then turned his attention to the human. "As for you, I'm sure you would like the chance to repair your suit." Optimus smiled gently, "You might want to get some rest, as well. You've had a long night."

"A very long night." She agreed. Her ribs gave a sharp twinge, reminding her of the pain held barely at bay by the drugs.

"Is there anything you need?"

"No, nothing at the moment," Mischief suddenly danced in her eyes as she continued, "I would like some privacy however. Would you be so kind as to remove the camera and change the door so it can be locked from the inside again?"

Primal's optics widened. She had been unconscious when they had brought her in and the camera was concealed inside the bulkhead. "How did you know?"

"I didn't," the human replied with a sly grin, "But that is what I would have done."

The Maximal leader grinned back at her, but sobered up immediately, "You're asking me to place my trust in you. I have your word that you will not tamper with anything on the Axalon or attempt to leave the base without informing either myself or Rhinox." It was not a question.

Dierdre drew herself up to her full height. Despite the dents and scratches on her armor and her ash-streaked hair, she looked every inch the commander she was. "It will take approximately two days, two solar cycles, to repair my Tech-Suit and to heal sufficiently. For those two days, I swear on my honor as an officer of United Earth and as a warrior, to abide by those restrictions." She looked down into Primal's eyes, "That is the most binding oath I can give. Life is…difficult in my time. We are in the midst of the most ferocious war in the history of both Earth and Cybertron. Life is often short, possessions are few, and most of the time the only family a warrior can claim is the squadron to which he or she belongs. Our word of honor is all we have. We take it very seriously."

"I can see that," Optimus replied quietly, "Come. I will make the necessary changes."

As they walked, side-by-side, to her new quarters, she said, her voice equally quiet, "Thank you, Optimus Primal."

* * *

Dinobot was not sure why he had lingered in the deep shadows of the corridor. He was not a spy by nature, but this human disturbed him. She was just too much of an enigma. Nearly everything about her was a mystery and Dinobot did not like mysteries.

After wrestling with his conscience for a few nano-clicks, he finally gave in to temptation and ducked into a doorway in the hall, effectively hiding him from view while still allowing him to listen into what was being said.

He could hear the others leave the bridge. Optimus began speaking to the human. After listening intently for a moment and hearing nothing of consequence, he was thoroughly disgusted with himself. This was no way for a warrior to be acting!

He was about to try to quietly slip away, when he heard something that stopped him. His reptilian eyes widened. He risked a glance around the doorway. The organic's voice was grave and her face was earnest as she spoke of honor and war. Most Predicons and some Maximals that he had known, the annoying little vermin being one example, thought that honor was just a word, to be used and discarded as needed. The raptor realized with surprise that this human…Dierdre…was not one of them. She meant what she said.

Dinobot waited until they had left the bridge before venturing out into the hall. Could it be possible? Could this, this _human_, truly know, and share, the sense of honor and duty that shaped every moment of his life? His breath caught in his throat. Was it possible that she could be…

Dinobot growled, banishing those thoughts before they could progress further. What was wrong with him? He had duties to perform and standing in the slagging hallway brooding over a female organic was not one of them.

He strode purposefully down the darkened corridor. He had determined to put the whole thing from his mind, but deep down, he knew her soft voice and honest words would haunt him for the rest of the day.

* * *

Optimus had removed the camera and fixed the lock. He showed her the comm system by her bed and told her to call him at the bridge if she needed anything. He left her after that, saying something about repairing a faulty circuit board.

_Alone at last_, Dierdre thought, locking the door.

An image of the data disk flashed through her mind. She grimaced. She hated the thought of leaving it in the hands of the Preds for one more minute, but she knew that the Maximals were right. If she was going to stand a chance against a nest of Predacons, she needed to be in the best physical condition possible.

Actually, she had not been entirely truthful when stating her healing rate. It would take only two days to prepare her Tech-Suit, but her own injuries would take longer than that. Even with her enhanced healing abilities, and the drugs in the little med kit, her cracked ribs would require at least six days to regenerate totally.

She had given her word of honor and she intended to keep it, but she wouldn't wait an instant longer. She couldn't. Despite her efforts to maintain control over her emotions, her eyes misted over. Being careful of her ribs, she sat on the cold, hard bed and buried her head in her hands. Her squadron… so many gone.

The room echoed for a time with her quiet sobs, as tears spilled from her eyes and trickled down her armored hands.

She felt an overwhelming desire to lie down and cry herself to sleep. She might have succumbed to the temptation if she hadn't sworn she felt her second-in-command Jamal's big hand smack her lightly on the back of the head and heard his deep voice say, "Ah, Dee, you stop that wailing. Right now, you hear me? That's no way for a soldier like you to be acting! Besides, if you keep it up, you'll rust your armor solid!" She lifted her head from her hands and grinned at the mental image of his face as he said that. He would smile his crooked smile and raise one eyebrow, a comical expression that would transform his broad, dark face to that of a mischievous boy. He could always get a smile out of her with that look.

The image of his face faded away as her tears dried. She had work to do.

* * *

Megatron glared furiously at a cringing Inferno. The ant was on his knees in front of the throne, which hung suspended from the ceiling by a single metal rod. His head was bowed and his arms were raised above his head, the remains of the human's bag clutched in his trembling fingers.

"So you were unable to catch a single injured human female. This displeases me Inferno. Yessss…"

"Royalty, I have failed you! I should burn for this transgression!" Inferno moaned. He looked ready to jump into the lava pits at the first sign from Megatron.

"Ordinarily I would agree with you. However, you were able to retrieve some of her equipment. And your story of the human's abilities intrigues me. Yesss." Megatron suddenly snatched the bag from Inferno's shaking hands and began to examine its contents.

"Hmmm…Interesting," he muttered to himself. Still looking over the items, he waved Inferno away. "You are forgiven, Inferno. Now get out of my sight."

"Oh, thank you my Queen!" the ant cried. Bowing quickly, he ran from the throne room and disappeared down one of the corridors.

"I do wish he'd stop calling me that," the annoyed tyrant grumbled. His massive hand idly touched a small data disk with black and white markings.

* * *

There were too many damaged circuits that could not be easily reached, Dierdre realized after doing a quick internal scan. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. She would have to remove the suit.

She silently ordered her Falchonite2 metal armor to collapse into 'rest mode'. The armor complied as best it could. Some of the metal slid smoothly across her body, heading towards her back, while the rest obeyed in fits and starts. It took far longer than it should have, but eventually the metal re-solidified into a midsized plate in the center of her back.

She reached behind her and seized one edge of the metal plate, ordering the suit to disconnect from her back. It did, but the plate was far too heavy to hold one-handed in such an awkward position. It hit the floor with a loud clang.

Cursing under her breath, she bent over slowly, grasping the plate with both hands and heaving it onto the bed. Clad only in her sleeveless gray jumpsuit and soft-soled slipper shoes, she leaned against the bed and allowed herself a second to recover. A maroon band with a small black battleship in the center encircled her upper left arm, signifying that she was a war commander as well as a trained fighter pilot.

Once the fire in her ribs had receded to a dull ache, she gave the suit a verbal command. "Battle mode." It slowly and jerkily returned to its previous shape. Ignoring the vaguely creepy feeling she got from the suit that looked just like her without a head, she began to intently inspect the damage.

Dierdre felt the material of her jumpsuit brush the TS-Connector in the center of her back as she leaned forward. Like all fighter jumpsuits, a hole had been cut in the material to accommodate the chip. The sophisticated little device was connected directly to her spinal cord and out through the skin to the suit. Knowing that there were any number of reasons that the suit might need to be removed, the people who had designed the armor had equipped the connector chip to release its hold on the body if needed.

While it could be done, the feeling that resulted was not pleasant. It felt as if she had suddenly lost sight in one eye, or looked down to find one of her hands missing. She had to work fast.

She picked up the flat square and activated it. She ran the soft yellow light that emanated from it over every square inch of her Tech Suit. The beam destroyed any foreign matter on the metal, effectively getting rid of the ash, the grass stains, and the flakes of dried blood…_Not mine; his… No, don't think about it!_… that marred the armor and prevented her from seeing the full extent of the damage.

Knowing that it would make her feel better, she ran the beam over her body. It was a far cry from a hot shower, but it got rid of all the ash and dirt on her face and in her hair.

Turning the sonic device off and setting it aside, the woman took a few more seconds to re-braid her hair. Feeling refreshed, she grasped the tool-kit and got to work.

* * *

It was now mid-afternoon, and Silverbolt was taking his shift at the scanners. His optic sensors were trained on the screen as Sentinel performed a routine sweep of the surrounding terrain. There were no Predicon energy signatures within range.

Although he would never admit it, he was bored. He understood the necessity of scanning duty, but there wasn't much to do. His sense of honor and duty prevented him from indulging in such distractions as Rattrap and Cheetor often did. Besides, 'video games' did not interest him. He saw no point on repeatedly blowing imaginary foes to scrap simply for entertainment purposes.

Silverbolt briefly considered calling Cheetor, who was out flying patrol, and asking for a status report. He dismissed the thought as soon as it arose. Sighing, he leaned back a little in his seat. A soft glow registered out of the corner of his right optic sensor. He glanced over at the force field that still held the human's weapon and transporter.

_A brave female, this Dierdre,_ he thought, remembering the battle of several mega-cycles ago. Anger surged through him as he recalled the brutal way Inferno had handled her. No one should treat a female that way!

His anger dimmed as his thoughts strayed to another female. He had only seen her a few times, but she was lovely. A beautiful combination of black and gold, her eyes were black pools that seemed to stare into his very spark. She was a dark beauty, with a brilliant mind and a wit to match. If only he could talk to her! He was certain that he could make her see the error of her ways and have her take her rightful place as a member of the Maximal team. And perhaps at his side? The thought pleased him.

"Black Arachnia," he whispered. He was jolted out of his ruminations when Cheetor's urgent voice suddenly sounded in the air.

"Cheetor to base. Come in!"

He leaned forward quickly and pressed the comm button. "Silverbolt here. What is it, my friend?" There was a burst of static and then the sound of gunfire. "I'm in Grid Stomax. I'm teaching Waspinator how to dance, but my scanners detect three Preds converging on my position. I think they want to cut in!"

"Hold on, Cheetor. We're on our way!" Silverbolt declared, switching to ship-wide communication. "Optimus, and all available Maximals, report to the bridge immediately!"

* * *

It had taken several hours, but Dierdre had made good progress in repairing her suit. She had reattached to suit to her body and left it in rest mode. Climbing onto the hard metal bed, Dierdre had finally fallen into an exhausted slumber, using her arm as a pillow.

She started awake at the sound of Silverbolt's urgent voice echoing throughout the ship. She was up in a second, ordering her armor into battle mode. The metal slid into the proper position much faster than last time, she noted with mild pleasure.

Reaching the table in one long stride, she opened the med kit and gave herself another painkiller injection. She slapped the small scanner and communicator side by side on her right hip. The devices instantly magna-sealed to the metal.

Hearing pounding feet rush past her room, she turned away from the table and unlocked the door. She stepped out and headed for the bridge at a fast trot. She was not a Maximal, but she'd be damned if she would sit quietly in her room while something was happening!

All of the Maximals except for Cheetor and Dinobot were present at the bridge when she arrived. Optimus didn't even look up when she included herself in the group. He was staring fixedly at a 3-D map which hovered over the main console. "Where was he when he contacted you?"

Silverbolt tapped a specific section of the map, outlining the area in red. "Grid Stomax."

"Dinobot is near that area," Optimus looked over his shoulder, "Rhinox, contact Dinobot and have him back up Cheetor until we get there."

"And Rhinox," he continued, "Stay here and guard the base."

Seeming to notice the human for the first time, Primal pointed a Transmetal finger at her. "Get some rest," he commanded.

Silverbolt and Rattrap had already descended in the turbolift. The Maximal leader was about to follow them when he felt Dierdre lay a hand on his shoulder. "Optimus, let me come with you."

He looked her up and down. She certainly looked better, but… "No. You need to stay here and recover."

Her eyes locked with his. Anger, concern and grim determination shown so strongly from her eyes that Optimus had to stop himself from stepping back a pace. "I can be of assistance. Also, I owe Cheetor a debt of gratitude. Allow me to repay it."

With a sigh of resignation, Primal relented, "Very well." He strode over to the right console and dropped the force field that protected her weapons. She quickly magna-sealed the blaster to her left thigh and the transporter to her right, just under the scanner and comm.

As the two stepped into the turbolift and sank from sight, Rhinox lumbered over to the comm and sat down. "And I'm left minding the store. Again."

* * *

Outside, it was a beautiful day. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, with only a few clouds to mar its sapphire surface. Dierdre reveled in the feeling of wind blowing through her hair, a wonderful experience after so long in deep space.

Optimus glanced sideways at the human. "Can you fly?"

Dierdre had the grace to look embarrassed when she replied, "No. I haven't had the time to repair those circuits yet."

With a nod he turned to the others. "Go to beast mode everyone. Silverbolt, give Rattrap a lift. And as for you…" Shifting to beast mode, he activated his thrusters. He extended a powerful ape hand, "Get on."

She took his hand and stepped on the 'surfboard' behind him. She held onto his shoulders for balance as he rose into the sky and flew toward Grid Stomax at maximum burn.

Rattrap was not happy. He was being borne high into the air by Silverbolt, who was holding tight to the Transmetal's tail. "Awww… dis is just great! I'm takin' da Bird Dog Airlines." He gave a yell of terror as Silverbolt increased his speed. "I'm gonna diieeee!"

Silverbolt grunted with the effort of keeping up with Optimus and holding on to the wriggling rodent. "Perhaps if you calmed down a little, my friend, it might go easier on both of us."

Rattrap's only reply was to shriek again and yell into the wind, "Rats ain't supposed t' fly!"

* * *

Dinobot yawned hugely as he stomped through Grid Xantus. The terrain was rocky, and what few plants could survive here were mostly cacti and a few tough grasses. The sky was brilliantly blue, unfortunately that also meant it was hot.

The velociraptor would not have ordinarily minded the heat. His body was well suited for such an environment, and he usually did not allow himself to dwell on such an uncontrollable thing as the weather. But he was out patrolling, and there was nothing to do but walk and think. To think about how much he despised this endless tromping around, and to think about how the heat was making him sleepy.

He yawned again. _By the Pit, I am bored. What I wouldn't give for a Predicon right now!_

Dinobot's eyes scanned the sparse desert terrain. There were no Predicons around, just rocks, the occasional cacti and a long stretch of canyons in the distance. _Naturally._ He blinked several times, determined to wake up.

In a sudden bout of anger, he kicked a rock with one of his powerful hind legs, sending it skipping across its brother stones for several meters. There were times, rarely, when he didn't mind a long patrol. It would get him away from the constant chattering of the other Maximals and give him time to enjoy his own company. Needless to say, this was not one of those times.

Not only was he bored, but he was also experiencing an emotion that he did not feel often. He tried to ignore the sensation, but it had grown so during the course of his patrol that he grudgingly acknowledged its existence. Dinobot, the ex-Predicon, the great warrior, was feeling lonesome.

Solitude was not a new experience for him. He had been alone all his life. A private bot, both by nature and by choice, he rarely let anyone know that he had emotions. And what feelings he did express, he usually hid behind a shield of aggressiveness, a quick temper and an attitude. This facade was absolutely necessary for him. He was a warrior, a bot to be feared in battle, and to show the world that there might be more to him than that would be his undoing. He would be rendered weak and vulnerable, a thought that frightened him more than he would ever admit.

So he cultivated his snarling exterior and kept everyone at a distance. Ordinarily that was fine, but now… _This is the human's fault,_ Dinobot decided angrily. Somehow her speech from a few mega-cycles ago had gotten to him. To his complete disgust, he found himself wishing for someone to talk to. Even the rodent would be welcome.

Dierdre's ice blue eyes flashed across his consciousness. She had claimed to be a warrior; could there actually be some truth in that? He snorted and kicked another rock. _I must be going mad._ There was no way the human could possibly be like him! She was an organic and a female, and her words were just that, words. He had no proof that she was truly bound by honor, and although her armor was impressive, he doubted she could measure up on the battlefield.

Unwillingly, his mind replayed the scene in her chamber. How she had fluidly rolled out of the metal recharge bed, picked up Rattrap by one hand and thrown him across the room. He chuckled to himself. Even though the mouse had crashed into him, the look on his face as he was tossed through the air was worth it.

The scene continued to replay in his mind. Enraged, he had drawn his sword against her and advanced. Rather than backing away, she had stood her ground and immediately armed herself. She had held the long wickedly sharp blade expertly, her body shifting into an easy combative stance even though she was still only partially conscious.

Perhaps she had some potential after all.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Rhinox's deep voice sounding over his comm system. The words were clouded by static, but easily understandable. "Dinobot, can you read me?"

"Affirmative," he hissed, "What do you want?"

Rhinox ignored the hostility in the raptor's tone as he continued, "Cheetor is being attacked by Waspinator in Grid Stomax, and three more Preds are on their way. Optimus wants you to assist Cheetor until he and the others can arrive."

"Acknowledged," He said, cutting off the transmission. At last, battle! And a chance to clear his head of annoying thoughts.

His spark seemed suddenly lighter. He took a deep breath through his raptor nostrils, and gave a tight smile. The air even smelled sweeter. He took off at a dead run, heading towards the distant canyons.

* * *

Dinobot had just entered Grid Stomax. The area was littered with canyons, deep echoing crevices that cut thousands of feet into the earth. The canyon walls were composed of many different layers of stone, ranging from the palest cream to a deep, rust red. He was standing on a wide stretch of tan sand and pebbles littered with many large boulders. A deep fissure in the earth ran to the left side of him. It was a hot, barren, lovely land.

The raptor took no notice of the scenery as he tried to catch his breath. He could see Cheetor far in the distance, pinned helplessly behind a boulder. A continuous volley of firepower from Waspinator, Inferno, Quick-Strike and Black Arachnia was steadily chipping away the rock. Soon the young bot would have no defense against them.

He took a moment to assess the situation. Waspinator was several feet in the air, buzzing to himself as he peppered the rock with his stinger weapon. Inferno was on the ground, laughing maniacally as he blasted Cheetor's meager cover with his flame-thrower. The small female spider was off to one side, firing only half-heartedly with her leg guns. She seemed to be waiting for something. Quick-Strike was several feet behind and on the other side of the deranged ant. He fired a burst of cyber-venom at the boulder, breaking off another chunk of rock. "Yeehaaaw!" he yelled. The annoying battle cry set Dinobot's teeth on edge.

Dinobot dug his wickedly clawed feet into the earth, crouched low and broke into a run. He did not run straight towards the combatants. Instead he gave them a wide berth, his brown and tan hide blending in well with the terrain.

His course brought him directly behind the Predicons. In their eagerness to scrap Cheetor, and with the canyon walls bouncing the sound of their weapons back to them, they failed to notice the raptor as he crept up behind them. Until it was too late.

With a chilling raptor scream, he leapt upon the unsuspecting Quick-Strike, the killing claws on his feet extended to the fullest.

Quick-Strike's face was buried in the sand as a massive weight settled on his shoulders. Two stabs of pain blossomed as Dinobot's talons dug deep into the Fusor's metallic skin.

He forced his head out of the sand and cried, "What in tarnation!" The weight suddenly disappeared as the other bot used him as a springboard.

"Dinobot, Maximize!" he yelled, his body immediately twisting and folding in on itself with a muted roar. He pulled his sword from subspace as he plunged towards Inferno. Inferno, whirling around at the sound of the commotion behind him, was barely able to dodge the sword blow that would have cut him in two. The warrior fired his eye lasers at Black Arachnia before she could bring her leg guns against him. She was thrown back several meters before her head struck a boulder and knocked her unconscious.

Dinobot had just enough time to pull his sword from the sand and dive behind the rock where Cheetor had taken refuge. The sand, where he had been standing only an instant before, began to melt under the intense heat of Inferno's flame-thrower.

"Killer moves, Dinobot!" Cheetor cried, firing at Waspinator with his hand laser. The wasp was forced down to the earth but miraculously avoided serious injury.

Dinobot merely growled in acknowledgment as he lifted his head above the rock and fired. The twin beams missed Inferno by millimeters.

You will buuurrrnnnn, Maximals! Wahahahahaha!" Inferno screamed in maniacal pleasure. He fired a continuous blast of flame, keeping it trained on the rock where the two Maximals hid.

They were forced to duck low as the heat from the flames quickly rose from uncomfortable to excruciating. Dinobot could feel his organic skin start to sizzle.

"Wazzbinator will deztroy cat-bot and traitor-bot. Then world zee that Wazzzbinator izz greatezt of Prediconz!" The wasp droned happily to himself. With the Maximals effectively pinned, Waspinator flew safely above the flames to the other side of the boulder. He opened fire on the trapped Maximals. One volley struck Cheetor in the hand while the rest exploded at their feet.

Cheetor howled in pain as the first shot tore up his left hand, and again, as the ground barrage threw him savagely against the boulder that had once sheltered him. Feeling dazed, he tried to fire back. To his horror, nothing happened. Mech-fluid dripped from his shattered hand and a few wires sparked, but that was it. He pulled out his tail-whip and began to grimly beat Waspinator back with it.

When the rounds had exploded at his feet, Dinobot was blasted over the boulder and through Inferno's flame. He landed in an undignified heap between Inferno and Quick-Strike, who was only now picking himself up. Hissing in pain from the burns on his raptor skin, he rolled out of the way and fired his optic lasers. The twin beams of green energy blasted the flame-thrower from Inferno's hand before he could bring it to bear against Dinobot.

"You will pay for that, traitor!" Inferno screeched.

"I'll help ya kick his keister! Ain't nobody gonna land on me like that and not pay fer et!" Quick-Strike hollered. He fired a stream of cyber-venom at Dinobot.

The tall warrior dodged the venom stream and threw his sword at the Fusor. The expertly thrown blade pierced straight through his chest plate, the tip poking out of his back, next to the two deep gouges on his shoulders. He went down with a hideous shriek of pain, mech-fluid pouring from the wound.

"For the royalty!" Inferno proclaimed, launching himself at Dinobot. Dinobot's mouth twisted into a fierce grin as the two collided with one another. His mind was clear and the Energon sang in his tubes. He drew back a fist and punched Inferno in the jaw. Life was good.

_

* * *

Magnificent, Dierdre thought, looking down at the canyons that were just now opening themselves up far below them. She had had difficulty coming to terms with what Optimus had said about the current timeline, but she was now convinced. This was Earth without a doubt; but what an Earth it was! In her time, even with all the cities and people, her planet had been beautiful. But this… this was glorious! In the brief flight from the base to here, she had witnessed countless wonders. She had seen vast stretches of grassland with a family of Sabertooth tigers (actual Sabertooth!) hunting some sort of deer, forests extending to the horizon and now these canyons in all their splendor. So this is what Earth looked like before humans came along. It was… paradise._

_Oh Jamal, You would've loved this…_

She was wrenched from her thoughts by Optimus's sudden decrease in speed and his voice raised over the wind. "There they are!"

They weren't difficult to spot. Smoke, blast craters, blackened earth and pools of mech-fluid marked the location very clearly.

Paradise indeed…

As they drew closer Dierdre saw that Cheetor was injured, leaning against a boulder. He was trying to keep a bot, which looked like a giant wasp, at bay with just a thick metal whip. A small female bot was just sitting up, rubbing the back of her head, while a bizarre looking Fuzor lay unmoving in the sand. A sword that she recognized as Dinobot's was rammed through his chest.

As for Dinobot… he was fighting a vicious hand-to-hand battle against the Predicon who had abducted her. The two were an awesome sight, mech-fluid dripped from various wounds as the two slashed, kicked and gouged at each other.

Optimus and Silverbolt went into a low dive, racing towards the combatants.

Seeing an opportunity, Dierdre threw up her shield and waited for exactly the right moment. As Optimus swooped over Cheetor and the Predicon wasp, she leapt off the board and plummeted towards the ground.

* * *

Waspinator was happy. For once he was the one slagging, not the one being slagged! The cat-bot could not fight back, except with that tail whip of his. All he had to do was hover just out of reach and he could shoot as much as he wanted without being hurt. What fun! The cat had managed to avoid most of the shots but he was getting slower, exhaustion and the wounds in his hand, chest and leg having taken their toll.

"Wazzbinator rulezzz!" He cried, firing off another couple of rounds at the tired Maximal. "Wazzbinator having good day! Wazzbintaor not get zzlaged once! Wazzbinator…"

Dierdre's armored feet connected with Waspinator's shoulders, forcing him out of the air and driving him into the earth. The instant they crashed, she did a tight tuck and roll. This maneuver absorbed the impact and translated it into energy for the roll, allowing her to quickly get a safe distance away. She pulled her blaster as she came to a halt, the weapon pointed at Waspinator. This turned out to be unnecessary. The bot was out cold.

"Are you all right?" the human asked of Cheetor, crouching beside him.

"Hey, it takes more than one lousy Pred to keep this cat down," he replied, mustering up a tired grin.

Dierdre smiled back and peered over the boulder, her weapon at the ready.

* * *

Optimus felt a moment of panic as the weight behind him suddenly disappeared. He looked over his shoulder in time to see Dierdre turn Waspinator into a metal pancake. He smiled inwardly before turning his attention to the battle ahead of him.

Optimus and Silverbolt landed on the outskirts of the battle. Silverbolt tried to set Rattrap down gently. The rat landed on his head.

"Hey! Whataya tryin' t' do, kill me?" Rattrap complained as he transformed.

Silverbolt transformed as well and stared at the smaller Maximal, looking genuinely shocked. "No, I…"

He never got to finish, for at that moment a hail of bullets sent them scrambling for cover. Black Arachnia smiled coldly as she pulled out her crossbow, waiting for a head to show over the large boulder where the Maximals had taken refuge.

Optimus cautiously peeked over the rock. He barely managed to avoid getting a face-full of bullets. He turned to the others.

"I'm going to provide a diversion. Silverbolt, as soon as she is distracted, I want you to take her out."

Silverbolt's ears flattened against his head. "Optimus, I…I cannot."

"What!"

"It isn't right. She is a female. I cannot raise arms against her."

Optimus glared at the Fuzor. This continuing refusal to defend himself or his comrades against Black Arachnia was getting to be a major problem. But he'd worry about that later. Right now…

"Rattrap, can YOU follow my orders?"

Rattrap chuckled and cocked his weapon. "I don't gotta problem with blastin' dat eight-legged refrigerator unit."

"Good." Optimus Primal said with a nod.

Silverbolt flinched.

Primal activated his thrusters, propelling him low to the ground and away from their hiding place. Black Arachnia whipped her weapon around to train on him. Her black eyes widened, realizing what was about to happen. She tried to turn back, but it was too late.

The blast sent her weapon spinning away from her, and painfully scorched her claw. _Slag this_. She transformed to beast mode and launched herself off the cliff, a strand of webbing anchoring her securely. She scurried sideways across the cliff-face and away from the battle, until she could find a place where she could observe and not be seen.

* * *

Dinobot did not notice the activity all around him, nor did he care. Right now, his whole universe had narrowed down to a single individual. Inferno.

The ant had lost the sight in one eye, but that did not seem to bother him as he kicked Dinobot in the side. He smiled unpleasantly at the grunt of pain that resulted, and delivered another powerful kick to one of Dinobot's legs, driving the warrior to one knee.

"You are food for the colony, traitor!" Inferno crowed triumphantly, sensing imminent victory.

"I think not," was Dinobot's simple reply as he surged forward. He head-butted the Predicon in the gut with every ounce of strength he had.

It was not the most elegant of moves, but it worked. And right now, that was all Dinobot cared about. Inferno sailed through the air and landed next to the cliff-face with a thump.

Dinobot fought double vision as he staggered to his feet.

Inferno came to his senses slowly. As he picked himself up, he found that he was now at a distinct disadvantage. Dinobot was still active and he could see several other Maximals moving out from their hiding places. The fact that he was in trouble finally penetrated his damaged circuitry.

He glared hatred at Dinobot. "This isn't over, Maximal," he hissed, activating his thrusters. He rose into the air, swooped down to grab his flame-thrower and then disappeared in the maze of shadowy canyons.

"Coward!" Dinobot bellowed, running as fast as his injured body would allow to the cliff edge. "Face me, insect!"

The only sound was of his voice echoing back to him.

* * *

Dierdre had looked over the rock just in time to see the final stages of the battle between Inferno and Dinobot. Her eyes widened as the raptor head-butted the ant and sent him flying. She grinned. She could learn to like this Dinobot.

She reattached her blaster to her hip and dropped her Personal Shield as Inferno zoomed away. Rising out of her crouch and looking around, she could see the other Maximals following the same actions.

Hearing a grunt of pain, she turned to see Cheetor trying to stand up. His injured hand and leg was making it difficult for him. She took his good hand in both of hers and pulled firmly, helping him to stand.

"Cheetor!" Optimus exclaimed as he rushed over to them. Concern for the badly damaged Maximal shown in his optics.

"I'm fine, Big Bot. Nothing a hot oil bath won't cure." The young bot said, trying to keep the pain from showing on his face.

"I think you'll need a little more than that," Optimus answered with gentle humor. He looped one of Cheetor's arms over his shoulders, so the young bot wouldn't have to put weight in the injured leg.

As they walked slowly over to the others, they passed the still, slightly squashed form of Waspinator. Optimus glanced over at the human who was walking quietly beside them. "Not exactly the most orthodox method of dispatching a bot." He gave her an amused half-smile.

Her eyes sparkled as she shrugged an armored shoulder. "But effective."

"Well kiddo, dis makes how many times I've helped save yer tail? Thirty? Forty? More dan dat? Ya gotta be more careful, Spots. You're wearin' me out!" Rattrap said; holstering his blaster as Optimus and Cheetor came to a halt.

Cheetor loosed himself from Optimus's grasp and shifted to beast mode. He seemed to be able to stand easier that way. The side of his head was mangled, but that didn't stop him from smiling mischievously at the rat.

"Awww… Isn't that sweet? You were worried about me."

Rattrap sputtered in indignation, but couldn't think of anything clever to say.

Silverbolt was sitting on a rock, staring dejectedly at the sand. Optimus's shadow descended upon the Fusor like a foretelling of doom. He knew he deserved whatever punishment he was about to receive, but he just couldn't go against what he knew to be wrong. He raised his golden eyes to meet Optimus's red optics.

Primal stared at the wolf-eagle bot. His eyes were neutral but his voice held a steely edge. "Silverbolt, you and I are going to complete Cheetor's patrol for him. We have much to discuss."

"Yes, sir," Silverbolt said with resignation. He stood up and was about to turn away when a strong hand rested lightly on his shoulder. He looked at Primal with surprise.

Optimus's eyes were not warm, but they attempted to understand. "I know the reason why you did what you did. You have a strong sense of honor. What I don't understand is why you feel the way you do about femmes. You will have to explain it to me."

"I will do my best," Silverbolt replied with a tentative smile.

* * *

Inferno had been furious when he was forced to retreat. The ant knew he should report back to his queen, but he cringed at the thought of the Royalties' righteous anger when he told him that he had failed to neutralize any of the Maximals. He came to a sudden stop. There had to be something more he could do. He could not fail the Royalty again!

He hid behind a bend in the canyon and perched on a rough outcropping of stone. The area was hidden in shadows, so he was able to see without being seen. The traitor was standing on the cliff edge, his optics scanning the area. The rest of the Maximals were a good distance behind him.

The idea came to him with such a flash of insight that he had to fight the urge to laugh out loud. It was perfect! From his new advantage point, he could see that the reptilian traitor was actually on an overhang, the rock jutting several meters from the true cliff edge. All he had to do was send a flame burst right where the overhang met the cliff. The rock would break apart and the traitor would plummet to his death.

He extended his flame-thrower and aimed carefully. For the glory of the Royalty, he must not miss!

* * *

Dinobot scanned the canyon where Inferno had disappeared. He could hear the others talking from several meters behind him. The warrior knew he should get back to them, but he was reluctant to give up the search. That would mean the battle was truly over.

Dinobot sighed and crossed his arms. Nothing but rocks and shadows. Inferno was long gone. It wasn't that fighting was the be-all and end-all of his existence, but the battle with Inferno had surprised him. The ant was a better fighter than he had thought. His attacks had been graceless, but powerful. And he had seemed tireless, his madness serving to fuel him on to greater feats of strength. It had been a glorious battle, one worthy of his talents. A pity it had ended so abruptly.

A deep gouge on his right thigh sparked. He gave a low hiss of pain.

Dinobot found himself wondering what would have happened had the Maximals not interfered.

The chattering behind him grew louder. He turned around, observing them. A hidden part of him was glad to see Cheetor up and smiling, his spirit none the worse for wear even after the pounding he had taken.

The human was standing with the others, laughing at something Cheetor said. Her head turned as she felt his gaze settle on her. She glanced over to him and lifted one corner of her mouth in a smile. He glowered back.

_If she even attempts to speak to me, I swear by the Pit I'll…_

There was a loud explosion, and the earth opened up and swallowed him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

All the Maximals gasped in shock as a loud explosion rocked the cliff face and sent up a huge cloud of smoke. They heard a choked off scream of surprised rage and then silence. Dinobot was gone.

"Chopperface!" Rattrap cried; his face twisted into a look of horror he didn't even try to suppress.

Optimus quickly transformed back to beast mode and activated his thrusters. He was about to rise into the air when he felt several tendrils wrap tightly around one of his legs. He looked down in surprise. It was Quick-Strike.

The Predicon had his scorpion hand in a death-grip around Optimus's leg. He lifted his head out of the sand and gasped weakly, but with a sadistic gleam in his optics. "Say goodbye…to yer…pal, tinhorn!"

"No!" Silverbolt howled, kicking Quick-Strike with one of his talon feet. The Predicon's eyes flickered and he slipped back into stasis lock.

Silverbolt rose into the air, struggling for altitude, while Optimus wasted precious nano-clicks extricating himself from Quick-Strike's grasp.

Despair rose in him. He didn't think he could reach Dinobot in time now.

His head snapped up as Cheetor's dismayed cry cut through the air, "Dierdre! No, wait!"

* * *

Dierdre watched, appalled, as the cliff edge Dinobot was standing on disintegrated. The bot's optics registered shocked anger as he plunged from sight. His cry rang in her ears.

She stood frozen for an instant. Then her brain went into over-drive. An image of Quickblade flashed in her mind. He and Dinobot were alike in many ways. Both were ex-Predicons. Both were warriors. And it seemed that Dinobot was about join Quickblade in death.

No! She wouldn't lose another comrade! Not while she still breathed.

The three flyers couldn't help. Cheetor was injured, Silverbolt would take time to achieve sufficient height for a dive and she could see that Optimus was having problems with the Predicon Fusor.

So, she did the only thing she could do. She broke into a run and dove off the shattered cliff-face.

_

* * *

I am going to die, Dinobot thought as he fell. Rocks that had once been the cliff he had been standing on rained down around him. The thought of death didn't bother him as much as the method with which he was about to meet his end. He had always pictured himself dying on the battlefield._

A rock smacked him on the side of the head, whirling him around. He was now facing towards the sky, as the canyon walls on either side of him seemed to rise higher into the air. He was falling much more quickly now, the wind screaming over his toppling form. The canyon was deep, but this free fall could not last much longer.

He noticed with some satisfaction that none of the others were sharing his fate. They had all been far enough away.

He looked up at the sapphire sky. It was a beautiful day…

His optics widened as a glint of silver flashed.

_

* * *

This is the stupidest thing I have ever done, Dierdre thought as she began to fall._

She could see Dinobot far below her. Stones from the broken cliff face were pummeling the bot. He seemed remarkably calm considering the circumstances.

She, on the other hand, did not feel calm at all. The adrenaline was pumping through her veins and panic threatened to set in.

_No! Think! Focus on the problem at hand. Get to him. Get to him now!_

Her eyes narrowed. She knew what she had to do.

The human straightened her body, holding her arms stiffly at her sides. She held her legs together and locked her knees. Her body offered little wind resistance as gravity pulled her faster and faster towards the flailing bot below.

* * *

To say that Dinobot was surprised at the sight of the human doing a suicide dive off the cliff would have been an understatement. He was stunned.

He saw her align her body, causing a dramatic increase in speed. He suddenly realized what was going on. She was trying to reach him. _She is insane!_ He was a dead bot already. There was nothing she could do, except join him in death.

She was definitely closer now. He could see her eyes, narrowed against the wind. Her face was set in stone as her red braid whipped around her head like a live thing.

"What in the Inferno are you doing!" He roared into the howling wind. She either didn't bother to answer or didn't hear as she raced towards him like a bullet.

* * *

Dierdre shifted her body slightly to avoid a falling rock. Once she had gotten over her fear, she realized she could control her direction with small body movements. It was just like flying, except there was nowhere to go but down. _Come on! Just a little closer…_

The human slammed into Dinobot, sending them both spinning wildly. Somehow, she managed to cling to him. She wrapped her left arm around his massive torso and her legs around his hips.

A small rock struck her on the forehead, making her see stars. Ignoring the pain, she touched the transporter magna-sealed to her thigh. It began to glow a soft blue.

His optics registered anger and confusion as she clung to him. "What are you…"

"Hold on to me! HOLD ON!" She screamed into his audio sensor. Her braid lashed him savagely across the face.

He only had time to wrap one arm around her waist before the world dissolved in a brilliant flash of blue light.

* * *

Optimus had finally managed to free himself from Quick-Strike's grasp. He fired his thrusters and plunged down the canyon, quickly passing Silverbolt whom had just begun his own dive.

He could see Dierdre far below him and Dinobot even farther than that. They only had a few more seconds of life left before the canyon floor killed them.

He was too far away and he knew it. That didn't stop him from trying however. He set his thrusters on maximum burn, rocketing towards the falling duo. Dierdre suddenly slammed into Dinobot, sending them both spinning uncontrollably. Primal's energon pump clenched. _Matrix, help them._

Then, as if the Matrix had heard his simple prayer, the two disappeared in a flash of light. An instant later there was a deafening sound as the remains of the cliff crashed into the canyon floor.

_Transporter. She had a transporter!_

Hardly daring to hope, he changed directions and flew back the way he had come.

* * *

Cheetor and Rattrap looked worriedly over the edge of the cliff. They could see very little, just a few dots that they assumed were their comrades.

"Do you think Optimus will make it in time?" Cheetor asked, silently cursing the injuries that prevented him from flying.

Rattrap was about to say that there wasn't a chance in the Inferno, but he stopped when he saw the stricken look on the young bot's face.

"I don't know kiddo," was all he said. He sighed. He understood the bot's concern; he felt it himself. Dinobot and he had been adversaries from the moment they had met. They argued, fought and threatened to scrap each other constantly.

It was great fun in Rattrap's opinion, and sometimes, when the two fought, he thought he could detect a gleam behind the ex-Predicon's optics. Perhaps Dinobot enjoyed it too.

_Now it looks like I'll never see his ugly face again_, the rodent thought mournfully.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash of blue light behind them. They whirled around in time to see Dierdre and Dinobot materialize out of thin air and fall to the earth with a loud crash.

After exchanging a look of shock, Cheetor and Rattrap ran over to the two. Dinobot lay flat on the ground with Dierdre draped across his torso. They both seemed stunned.

The woman stirred and the bot's optics flickered. They both groaned.

Dinobot looked up to see Rattrap standing over him. He grimaced. "Wonderful. The first thing I wake up to is you, cheese eater. I must be in the Inferno."

"Scale belly, you're alive. Too bad." Rattrap fought the urge to dance with glee.

The human came fully awake. Blue eyes met crimson optics as she raised her head from Dinobot's chest.

"So, do ya two want t' be alone or what?" Rattrap asked. Cheetor snickered.

Dierdre rolled off Dinobot and they both sat up. A thin trickle of blood ran down the side of the human's face.

She glared at the small Maximal. "Rattrap, I'm not in the best of moods right now. Don't force me to hurt you."

"I, too, insist that you depart, rodent." Dinobot rasped, slowly standing. He towered over the Transmetal rat. "Or I will do more than hurt you."

Rattrap threw up his hands and said with an expression of mock fear, "Heh, I'm quakin' in my servos over 'ere."

Before any more words could be exchanged, Optimus and Silverbolt rose out of the canyon.

"You're both all right!" Silverbolt cried as he landed next to the group.

Dierdre stood up, looked at Dinobot's heavily damaged superstructure and touched her bleeding head ruefully. "In a manner of speaking."

Optimus transformed in midair, dropping the last few feet to land with a thump. "Excellent work, Commander. That was…"

"That was foolish, fleshling!" Dinobot snarled suddenly, walking over to the unconscious Quick-Strike and pulling his sword from the Fusor's chest plate. Sheathing the weapon, he stalked up to Dierdre and growled into her face. "Do you have a death wish?"

Dierdre's eyes widened in shock but quickly narrowed. She spoke with an anger that matched his own. "No, but I thought _you_ had a life wish, which is why I risked myself to save you." She turned her head and glared at the others. "Just as you all risked yourselves for me; a stranger. Did you expect me to do any less?"

Silverbolt stepped forward and tried to speak reasonably, "No one disputes your bravery, my lady. But you shouldn't have put yourself in such peril."

She laughed humorlessly. "I did not become a commander in the United Earth Army by being timid or hiding from danger. I knew the risks." She turned back the angry ex-Pred and stabbed him in the chest with an armored finger. "Or would you have rather gone 'splat' all over the canyon floor?"

"Well…" Rattrap began, rubbing his chin as if in deep thought.

"Rattrap, be quiet," Primal said. He focused his attention on the human. "While your actions were reckless, they were, as you say, effective. Thank you for your help."

Dinobot gave a growling hiss of rage. "I require no 'help' from a semi-evolved anthropoid!" He abruptly transformed into his deadly beast mode and snapped his jaws just inches from Dierdre's nose.

_Oh, Grandma, what big teeth you have…_ Pushing down her instinctive fear of being eaten, she smiled tightly. "My apologies. Before I so thoughtlessly intervened, I'm sure you were just about ready to sprout wings and fly away."

Rattrap, of course, thought that this was hilarious. Dinobot growled at Dierdre once more and turned on his heel, his tail 'accidentally' whacking Rattrap in the back of the head. This did little to stop the rat as he laughed uncontrollably.

Dierdre watched thoughtfully as the injured velociraptor stalked back to base, trying very hard to conceal a limp. Her expression was unreadable.

Cheetor walked over to the human and looked up at her. "Don't mind him; he's like that with everyone. I think what you did was ultra-gear."

She smiled down at him. "Thanks, Sky Cat."

Cheetor grinned at the nickname and replied, "Any time, Red."

They both turned at the sound of Optimus's voice. "Rattrap, quit laughing and go with Dinobot. Make sure he gets home safely."

The rat finally stopped chuckling and grudgingly transformed. He drove off after the injured bot, muttering something about raptor-sitting. At Optimus's orders, Silverbolt transformed to beast mode and picked up Cheetor. The Fusor slowly climbed into the air, the Transmetal held tightly in his talons.

"Beast mode." Optimus said. Once the transformation was complete, he turned to the human. "Commander?" He motioned for her to climb aboard.

Dierdre bowed her head for a second and then spoke. "Optimus, I have a favor to ask. I am a Commander, but I am a Commander without a squadron. So call me Dierdre, and ask your people to do so, as well. Please."

Primal nodded as the human stepped onto the flight board behind him. He had heard the pain behind her calm words as she spoke of her squad. "As you wish, Dierdre."

As he activated his thrusters and rose into the air, he did not notice the eight-eyed Predicon still watching them from the deep shadows.

* * *

The Predicon base loomed up ahead like a malevolent insect straight from the Pit. Ash-gray terrain, laced with rivers of lava that never cooled, only served to add to the aura of evil that permeated the entire area.

_Home, sweet Inferno,_ the black widow spider thought to herself as she entered the belly of the Darkside. She scurried down the dark corridor that led to the Battle Bridge, her skinny spider legs making hardly a sound on the metal deck.

She slowed as she approached the bridge. Hugging the shadows, she peered around the corner. As usual, Megatron was seated on his 'throne' while Inferno, also as usual, was kneeling before him.

The ant swayed a little as he described the battle that had taken place just over a megacycle ago. He left nothing out, but his head bowed in shame as he told of his failed attempt at destroying the traitor. He had lingered in the shadows of the canyon as Dinobot began to fall; wanting to make sure the raptor was dead. Thusly, he witnessed the human's rescue of the turncoat. He left immediately afterwards, knowing that he had to report this incident to the Queen, regardless of the consequences to himself.

He finally lapsed into a resigned silence, waiting for his royalty's justified anger to descend upon him. Megatron said nothing after the ant finished speaking. He simply leaned his elbow on the arm of his throne and cupped his chin in his hand. He stayed that way for a long moment, seemingly in deep thought. The lava that bubbled from the earth beneath Inferno's platform cast strange shadows upon the Predicon leader's visage, giving him a truly diabolical appearance.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the soft feminine voice of Inferno's personal computer systems. "Warning: stasis lock eminent."

"Inferno," the Transmetal T-Rex suddenly said. "Get yourself to a CR-Tank. We will discuss your failure at a later date." He waved the ant away distractedly with his tail gun.

Inferno's shattered optics registered surprise at this unexpected reprieve, but he did not question his good fortune. He stood slowly and painfully, several severed wires in his chest sparking. "Thank you, Majesty."

"Oh, and Inferno," Megatron continued, bringing the ant to a halt. "Take these two with you." The tyrant pointed at the stasis locked Quick-Strike and the barely conscious Waspinator.

"As you wish, Royalty." Inferno leaned forward and grabbed the Fusor by his snake arm. Dragging the badly damaged Predicon behind him, he kicked Waspinator in the side.

"Get up, Drone," he hissed. "The Royalty commands it!"

"Oooo… Wazzpinator haz headache in hiz whole body!" the wasp moaned, slowly standing and following the ant as he walked unsteadily in the direction of the Darkside's repair chamber.

As soon as the three had staggered out of earshot, Megatron raised his voice. "Black Arachnia, I know you are listening. Come out."

The Predicon spider gave an involuntary hiss of surprise. How had old grape-face known she was there?

She stepped out of the shadows and transformed, trying to fix a look of guileless innocence and borderline stupidity on her face. "Megatron, it is good to see you."

"Drop the charade, spider. I do not take kindly to my own troops spying on me. Nooo."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Megatron. I only just arrived here." The she-spider replied with an air of wounded dignity.

The Pred leader spoke in a voice laden with sarcasm. "Yes, I have no doubt you did." He leaned forward and fixed his intense gaze upon Black Arachnia. "On to more important matters. I trust you were able to complete the mission I assigned for you."

Sighing a little, she pulled a red recorder disk out of her subspace compartment and handed it to Megatron. "Of course. The entire battle, including the biped's dramatic rescue, is recorded here." She was now glad that she had made a copy of the recording into her data tracks. It would bear closer scrutiny later.

"Excellent, yesss."

"How did you know that the human would show up at the battle? I doubt those three idiots have figured it out," She pointed with a scorched pincer in the direction of the restoration room. "But I dislike being used as bait."

"A calculated risk on my part," Megatron said nonchalantly. "And apparently a correct one." He twirled the red disk with the fingers of his left hand.

"Leave my sight, Black Arachnia. I have much to think about. Yesss."

"As you command, my Queen," she said mockingly. She ran towards the restoration chamber, disappearing from sight before Megatron could do more than snarl at her words. Her high-pitched cackle reverberated throughout the base.

"Treacherous arachnid," the tyrant growled. Dismissing her from his mind, he inserted the disk into one of the computer consoles that hovered around his chair. The fight, seen from Black Arachnia's perspective, began to play on the screen.

The recording ended as the Maximals began to disperse. "There is more to this human than meets the eye. Yesss."

Opening a secret compartment in the armrest of his throne, he pulled out a small data disk with black and white markings.

He inserted it into the computer and watched as an incredibly complex code composed of indecipherable lettering flashed across the screen. Preparing himself for a long night, he leaned forward and began to try to unravel the code that human military scientists had spent five years perfecting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Three **

Chapter Five

The next day found Dierdre at the main computer console, looking at a 3D hologram of Waspinator. She munched on an apple, listening intently to Cheetor's description of the Predicon's intelligence and combat skills. She suppressed a bark of laughter. No wonder the wasp had been so easy to squash!

Cheetor switched the hologram to a picture of Inferno. The image rotated slowly as the young bot described one of the quirks of the ant's damaged logic circuits.

She nearly choked on her apple. "Queen? He calls Megatron Queen!"

Cheetor grinned and nodded his head.

Dierdre's shoulders shook with mirth.

The woman had been up since the early hours of the morning, getting a guided tour of the base from Cheetor. The young bot had accepted the task willingly, taking her through every part of the ship. During that time, the vivacious feline had talked constantly. He gave her a short history of what had happened to them since they had crash-landed on this prehistoric earth, and even chatted for a while about local base gossip.

They had gone their separate ways around mid-morning. Cheetor had had to help Rhinox with some modifications on one of the base's gun ports. Dierdre had spent the time repairing more of her suit's damaged circuitry and speeding up the mending of her body. Thanks to her enhanced healing abilities and the hypos in her little med kit, the pain in her ribs had almost disappeared. Almost.

Despite herself, she felt a twinge of envy at the easy way bots were able to repair themselves. Cheetor had taken a few bad hits in yesterday's attack, but after a few hours in the CR-Chamber, he looked as good as the day he was first activated. She shrugged mentally. No use dwelling on what could not be.

They had met again some three megacycles later in the bridge. Now, at her request, the cat was getting her acquainted with the Predicons who inhabited the region.

She had her armor in rest mode, except for a thin metal belt that encircled her waist. The metal extended in two plates on either side of her hips to halfway down her outer thighs, where her blaster, scanner, comm and transporter were still magna-sealed securely. She was medicated up to her eyeballs and there was a fresh bandage on the cut on her forehead. Leaning back in her seat she felt, for the moment, fairly contented with the world.

Cheetor switched the hologram to show a creepy-looking Transmetal spider.

"This is Tarantulus, the last of the baddies," Cheetor began. "He's the Pred's resident mad scientist and all-round creepaziod. He…"

The woman looked up from the hologram at the heavy sound of footsteps. It was Dinobot in beast mode, stalking out of the shadows of the center passage. Dierdre was a little surprised to see him; the bot had avoided her like the plague ever since they had arrived at the base last night.

In rescuing him, she had somehow hurt his pride. She didn't know if it was because she was human, female, a combination of the two, or something entirely different. She simply didn't know enough about him to reach a conclusion. Judging from his reaction yesterday, she might be better off not knowing him. He didn't seem to be the most sociable of bots.

_Neither was Quickblade in the beginning,_ reminded a small voice in her head.

Fighting down the sudden surge of anguish that thought triggered, she turned back to the hologram and to Cheetor, who was still talking away, "…specializes in weapons making, assassination tools, cyber-venom and other ultra-bad gizmos. Megatron relies on him for his intelligence, but doesn't trust him for a nano-click."

Cheetor stopped his narration as Dinobot stomped up to them. "Hey, D.B. What's up?"

Completely ignoring the young bot, he focused his feral gaze on Dierdre. "I must speak with you, fleshling."

Dierdre suppressed an annoyed sigh. Fleshling. How she hated that word. Fleshling, squishy, organic, Maximal pet; all were derogatory terms still occasionally used by Cybertron's more ignorant bots, and often screamed by a Predicon warrior in the midst of a battlefield, right before he tried to blow her apart.

Ordinarily, Dierdre might have bristled at the insulting word and his caustic tone. As it was… The woman took a deep breath, forcing her muscles to relax, and calmly said, "You know my name, Dinobot. Use it and I will answer."

Dinobot's reptilian eyes blazed dangerously and he snarled, his lip pulled back to reveal very sharp white fangs. Dierdre's hand slid unobtrusively under the table, ready to draw her blaster if the Predicon-turned-Maximal decided to leap for her throat.

Thus prepared, she waited patiently for a response. Receiving none, she shrugged and turned back to Cheetor, who was watching the proceedings with intense interest. "So this bot's dangerous even to his own faction?" She asked; gesturing to the hologram suspended over the main console.

Cheetor glanced sideways at the growling Dinobot and opened his mouth to answer her question.

"Dierdre," the raptor suddenly gritted, "I have a matter of some urgency to discuss with you. In private."

The human nodded and stood up. She looked down apologetically at the still-sitting Cheetor. "I'll be back soon, Sky Cat."

"And I'll be waiting, Red."

She flashed the feline a smile and focused her attention back to the impatient former Predicon. "Do you know of a place that will be deserted now?"

Dinobot hissed an affirmative and began to stride down the right passage, each step causing the sickle claws on his feet to click against the floor's metal plating like Morse code. Dierdre tossed her apple core into one of the garbage disposal units and silently followed.

* * *

Dinobot stopped in front of a door that Dierdre remembered from Cheetor's earlier tour. It was the smaller of the two crew rooms on the Axalon, which also doubled as a storage room. The door slid open, and, once they had stepped inside, closed with a soft hiss. The lights brightened to reveal a sparsely decorated little room with two hard pieces of furniture that might have been called couches, and wonder of wonders, an actual padded chair. Boxes, broken computers and other miscellaneous items were shoved and piled into two of the corners. A faint, stale odor of disuse permeated the chamber.

Seeing that Dinobot could not bring himself to begin the conversation, Dierdre sank into the padded chair, allowing herself to enjoy the relief the soft cushioning gave to her sore body. She gestured to a couch that was positioned in front of the chair and said to the disgruntled velociraptor, "Perhaps if you transformed and sat down, we could talk more easily."

Dinobot snarled and maximized. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he scowled down at her. "I would prefer to stand."

"Very well." Although she was reluctant to leave the blissful comfort of the chair, she stood up to face him. "What did you want to discuss with me?"

"It is about the... incident yesterday."

Dierdre nodded and looked up at the tall warrior. Somehow, she was not surprised. "Yes? What about it?"

He shifted uncomfortably. Why must the human keep looking him in the optics? It made him distinctly uneasy. "I would hear your reason as to why... you did what you did."

"I..." She hesitated. Why was he asking her this? "I only did what anyone would have done."

He snorted derisively. "No. You could have waited in safety. Optimus would have been able to reach me in time." She shook her head in a negative gesture. He ignored it. "Moreover, female; you do not know me. You were under no obligation to give me assistance."

"I do not abandon my comrades!" Dierdre answered with some heat. She glanced down at the ground for a moment before raising her eyes back to his harsh face. When she spoke again, her voice held pain and quiet bitterness. "Not when there is even a slight chance to save them."

She blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. Angrily brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes, she continued softly, "I don't expect you to understand; but it was the right thing to do." She made an unconscious grabbing gesture with one callused hand, as if to pull the appropriate words from the chamber's musty air. "The honorable thing."

Dinobot stood very still. His optics registered surprise and a brief glimmer of... satisfaction? He looked away from her for a long moment before dropping his arms. "Then I have no choice but to... thank you."

He scratched his chin with a taloned finger, as if searching for inspiration. "Your words have just confirmed what your actions already indicated. While I have yet to see you fight in battle, you have the bearing of a warrior; one who is bound by honor. As am I." He hesitated, seemingly fighting an internal conflict with himself, and then growled suddenly, "I...am in your debt."

There was a moment of silence. Dierdre felt a little stunned; she had half-expected to be attacked, not _thanked_!

Realizing that she probably looked a little ridiculous with her mouth hanging open, she quickly shut it and ran her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit she had never been able to break, and tried to gather her scattered thoughts.

She had known him for only a day and a half, but one thing about him was apparent; he was a proud bot, very proud. It had taken everything in him to say what he had just said, and displayed a depth of character she somehow hadn't expected from the taciturn warrior. Dierdre suddenly felt a stab of guilt for her misjudgment of him.

With as much grace as she could muster, she gave him a small bow, just a slight dipping of her head, and said, "Thank you, Dinobot, for your words. However, you've no obligation to me." She lifted a hand before he could speak. "Two nights ago you and the others saved me from capture and an almost certainly painful death. I'd say we were even." At his visible relief, she allowed an amused smile to play on her lips. "That must have been difficult for you to say."

The ex-Predicon chuckled; a short-lived and sardonic sound reminiscent of gravel being crushed underfoot. "You will never know."

Seemingly very uncomfortable with the whole situation, he continued, "I must go. I have duties to perform." He transformed back to beast mode and was halfway out the door before Dierdre's voice stopped him.

"Dinobot, wait."

He turned reluctantly. "What?"

"Once the matter of the data disk has been resolved, perhaps you would care to join me for a practice battle?" Seeing his shocked expression, she continued, "I'm used to practicing with a partner, and I don't want my sword arm to get rusty, so to speak."

He had a strange look in his organic eyes. Dierdre felt a blush threatening to color her cheeks, but she refused to look away or take back her words. Human she may be, but she was a soldier as well, a trained fighter, and, despite his size and strength, she was confident that she could hold her own against him in combat.

"Do you honestly think you can last more than a few seconds against me?"

She ignored his incredulous tone and drew herself up; arms folded. "Yes. I have fought against bots larger and more aggressive than you before, and as you can see, I'm still in one piece. More or less." Absentmindedly, Dierdre ran the fingers of her left hand down a long white scar on her upper right arm. "I may surprise you."

_You have already done that._ "Very well, human," he hissed. "Barring unforeseen circumstances, you shall have your battle. Prepare yourself for defeat."

Did she only imagine the humor that seemed to flicker briefly behind his eyes?

Dierdre laughed a little. "Perhaps. Or perhaps you'll be the one to have your sword given back to you."

He seemed to consider it unlikely, but nodded slowly. "We shall see. Until then..." He stepped out of the doorway and vanished down the hall. The door slid shut behind him.

Dierdre waited until she was sure he had gone from the corridor before venturing out herself. Her mouth curved, unbidden, into a small smile.

Until then.

_

* * *

Several mega-cycles later…_

"You see Rhinox; here, here and here." Dierdre pointed to a life-sized 3D hologram of a human skeleton. More specifically, her skeleton.

Rhinox looked at the faint fractures on display and nodded thoughtfully. "This enhanced healing ability of yours is quite remarkable. From what I was able to dig up in the Axalon's memory files, an injury like this should take over a lunar-cycle to repair itself." He ran a huge metallic finger along a hairline fracture on one of the holographic ribs. "But these breaks look like they were made two deca-cycles, rather than two solar-cycles, ago."

The human lifted the right corner of her mouth into a smile. She flipped her braid over a tanned shoulder and replied, with a trace of pride in her voice, "The miracles of modern technology."

Rhinox and Dierdre were in Rhinox's private lab. In addition to the scientific paraphernalia that gave the room a decidedly Frankensteinian feel, there were also several pieces of medical equipment adding to the organized chaos, including a tri-dimensional holo scanner. Although reluctant, the human had agreed to submit herself to the curious bot's scanning equipment. She had to admit that it would be useful for them to have some information on her if she was ever hurt too badly to help herself.

Rhinox leaned forward suddenly and stared intently at something on the hologram. "But what are these? They look like shadows on the bone." He pointed at such a shadow located on the right tibia of the hologram.

"That's just an old injury." At Rhinox's questioning glance, Dierdre elaborated, "Most humans who serve in the military have had their genes altered slightly. Not much, but enough to increase speed and strength, to slow the aging process, and of course, to enhance natural healing.

"When my bones snap, they immediately start to heal themselves. My body goes into overdrive, replacing bone matter at ten times the natural speed. While not detrimental to the bone, one consequence of this healing process is a small ring of denser bone around the healed break; which looks like a shadow in most scans."

Rhinox nodded his head. There were several such 'shadows' on her bones. The big scientist glanced at the human, who appeared so small and fragile next to him. "You seem to have had a hard life."

Dierdre nodded slowly, her attention fixed on the hovering representation of her skeletal structure. She seemed a little sad. "Indeed. I've been fighting in this Infinity-cursed war ever since Ganitron broke the peace treaty."

"How long ago was that?" Rhinox inquired. He was very interested in her timeline; but thus far she had changed the subject whenever any of the Maximals asked a question she didn't want to answer. Not even Cheetor, the bot she seemed most comfortable with, had been able to get much out of her.

In a way, the rhino understood her reluctance. She was a commander after all, and she no doubt knew the dangers of revealing too much information. Therefore he was mildly surprised when she answered his question.

"Nearly twenty-five years ago. Almost half my life has been spent in battle."

"Almost half…but that would make you…"

Dierdre gave him a slightly mischievous grin. "Ladies do not have to tell their ages."

Rhinox merely raised an eye ridge at her. "In my time, humans couldn't live much longer than eighty years. How much has the genetic manipulation slowed down the aging process?"

The human shrugged. "Barring fatal injury, I have about two hundred and fifty years of life left to me."

"Not bad." Cybertronians usually went offline after four hundred stellar cycles, although spark transfer to a new body could increase the process indefinitely.

"Yeah. However, I doubt I'll live that long," Dierdre said calmly. "As I'm sure you know; war doesn't treat a soldier kindly."

"I know that all too well," the big Maximal replied, thinking of Goldstreak, an old love lost in a border skirmish over a century ago.

With a shiver, Rhinox's large yet nimble fingers flew over the holo scanner's keyboard and saved the image into the Axalon's memory files. He closed down the scanner and turned to the human.

"I would like to run a few more tests on you, for the records."

Dierdre looked at Rhinox a little suspiciously. "What kind of tests?"

A roar of rage from somewhere deep inside the Axalon interrupted Rhinox's answer. An instant later there was an answering shriek of fear. The sound of running feet and the scrape of claws against metal could be heard.

Part of the Falchonite2 plate centered on the human's back seemed to melt and snake like living liquid down her left arm. An instant later, Dierdre was holding a long and wickedly sharp blade. She began to stride over to the door.

"There's no need for that," said Rhinox, stopping her in her tracks.

"No need? It sounds like someone's being killed!"

With an air of long suffering, the Maximal shook his head. "No. It's only Dinobot and Rattrap."

There was another roar, sounding closer than the last, and a giant Transmetal rat materialized out of the corridor's gloom. "How 'bout some help 'ere!" he called to the two as he scampered past the doorway. "Ol' Teeth 'n Talons 'as flipped 'is circuits again!"

"When it comes to Dinobot, you're on your own," answered Rhinox.

"Heh… Thanks a bunch, pal," Rattrap retorted.

An instant later the aforementioned velociraptor bounded past them with surprising grace, his tail trailing behind him like a banner. "Stand your ground, pestilence," he snarled at Rattrap's retreating form. "It will only hurt for a nano-click!"

"Ya gotta catch me first, Thunderbutt!" the rodent flung over his shoulder. He increased his speed and disappeared around a corner.

Dinobot followed him, his talons scraping up sparks as he turned sharply. "Stinking garbage eater! Let me introduce you to my 'choppers'…"

The sound of hurled insults faded as the two adversaries descended deeper into the bowels of the ship, leaving an exasperated Rhinox and a dumbfounded human in their wake.

"Um… Are they always like that?" Dierdre asked when she could trust herself to speak.

"Sometimes worse."

"And you're sure they're not going to kill each other?"

Rhinox shrugged. "They haven't yet, and Primus knows they've had plenty of opportunities." Seeming to dismiss the duo from his mind, he looked keenly at Dierdre. "Now, about those tests…"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

_That night…_

Alone in her quarters, Deirdre spoke, "Lights."

Bit by bit, the room brightened. She glared at the bare, dull gray metal walls. _I've got to get some decorations for this place. And maybe that chair in the storeroom…_

Planning the changes and looking about the small area, the human's eyes were drawn to the mini holo-projector, which was resting on the solitary table along with the rest of her equipment. Unable to stop herself, she reached for it.

The woman flipped quickly through the 3D pictures, stopping at the last one. Her face twisted into an expression that was half-smile and half-grimace. The hologram had been taken on Earth only a few days ago, the night before the disk raid.

Knowing how difficult this next assignment would be, Dierdre had given her squadron the night off, letting them do whatever they wished as long as they didn't breathe a word of the mission to anyone. To her surprise and delight, the squad had unanimously opted to spend their rest time with their commander, and with each other.

They had gone to one of their favorite haunts in New Manhattan, a quiet little hole in the wall with a reputation of serving some of the best liquors in the city. They had spent hours there just lounging about, discussing old times, laughing and joking around with an ease only those of long acquaintance could accomplish.

About halfway into the evening, there had been a somber moment as the older members of the squad, Dierdre included, recalled the names of those beings who had died since the formation of the group so many years ago. There had been three, all within the first four years. The last had been her commander, dead by a massive blow to his spark casing. With his demise, leadership had been passed onto her. She still missed him, disagreeable old goat that he had been.

Since she had taken command, no more lives had been lost. An occurrence brought on by good leadership on her part, an exceptionally talented squadron and a lot of luck. On that night, although it was never spoken, everyone had known that would all change the next day. Someone, probably several someones, in this group, the only family most of them had, would be dead within the next twenty-four hours.

However, they did not allow themselves to dwell on such things for long. There had been no more talk of death that night, only a celebration of life.

Some time later, knowing that everyone needed sleep if they were to function properly the next day, the squad leader had been forced to bring the evening to a close. Before they had gone their separate ways, however, Dierdre had asked the bartender to take a holo-picture of them all.

After a few prerequisite mutters and a little grumbling, the squad had all congregated in front of the bar. Instead of waiting until everyone had settled down, the bartender had snapped the picture when the group had been in the height of chaos. Dierdre actually preferred it that way.

The hologram showed them all:

James --who could build or repair any machine and kept up the group's morale during tense moments with his quick wit and ready laugh-- was lounging on a bar stool. He had a drink in one hand with his other around Cassie's waist. His face was spread into its customary smirk. Cassie --an incredible fighter pilot and one of the gentlest people Dierdre had ever known-- had her arm draped casually over her husband's shoulders. The camera had caught her as she was leaning forward and scratching Nightflash, in his German Shepard beast mode, playfully behind his ears. Flash --a cynical bot and a remarkable hand-to-hand combat fighter-- was obviously in seventh heaven, his tongue lolling out and a goofy expression on his canine face.

Cyteese --a brilliant technician and the squadron's resident miracle-worker-- and Silver Star --a good-humored intelligence expert-- were engaged in a verbal brawl. Cy had her hands on her hips, glaring up at the much taller Silver. They both looked on the verge of killing each other; an image marred only by the smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths.

Anthony --a quiet and world-wise demolition specialist-- was a little off to the side of them, a half-empty glass clasped, forgotten, in his scarred hands. The holo caught the silent yearning in his expression as he stared at Angela --a skilled medic whose sweet voice had earned her the affectionate nickname of Angel-- who was smiling brightly at the camera, oblivious to him.

Chang --a battle-weary weapons master-- and Grace-Weaver --an exceptionally beautiful femme bot who was also one of the best sharp shooters in the Fleet-- had been sharing a tender moment; his arms wrapped around the femme's slender waist, her hand entwined with his black hair. Love was etched onto their features.

At the center of the chaos, Dierdre and Jamal --her second in command and best friend since the Academy-- each had an arm draped over the other's shoulders. Jamal was laughing helplessly at the expression on the normally dignified Flash's features, while Dierdre grinned as she spoke with Quickblade --a Liberator Predicon skilled in melee combat, who had once called her his spark-sister--. Blade had made a gallant effort to comply with Dierdre's teasing order that he loosen up and smile, but the look on his face seemed to ask, 'Why me?'

The small hologram distorted as a drop of warm, salty liquid fell on the holo-projector clutched in a shaking organic hand. Dierdre pressed the octagon in the center, turning it off. She couldn't look at it any longer.

In a sudden bout of anger, she threw the holo-projector across the room, reached up and ripped the bandage off her forehead. She probed the area with her fingers. The cut was completely healed, leaving only a small scar, which she knew would fade away to almost nothing in a day or so. She dropped the bandage and clasped her hands tightly together, trying futilely to stop their trembling. She suddenly felt very tired.

Maybe she could sleep….

_

* * *

They stood before her, awaiting their final orders. They were her squadron of fighters, her friends, her family. She wondered if they knew how much she cared for them…how proud she was of them. She felt a wave of sadness hit her as she watched them, knowing this would be the last time they would be together as a whole unit._

Don't cry; don't cry. No emotions; give them only reassurance. You are the leader; they are strong because you are strong. Don't fail them.

_"You are the best squadron in the Fleet," Dierdre began, smiling softly and locking gazes with each of them in turn. "And the finest group of people I've ever had the privilege to associate with. Fight well, watch your comrade's back and don't get dead." After a short pause, she ran her fingers through her hair and spoke in a more business-like fashion. "We launch in five cycles, so say your goodbyes now. That's all." _

_The commander watched as her squadron broke up into smaller groups. _

_It was several moments before she was able to tear her gaze away from them to face the two beings who meant more to her than anything in life. She clasped wrists with Quickblade in the traditional warrior's fashion and placed her hand on Jamal's broad shoulder. He returned the gesture along with a small crooked smile and a raised eyebrow. Blade stared intensely at her for a moment and squeezed her wrist. Words were inadequate, and unnecessary. Many years of friendship and memories washed over the three._

Oh, Infinity, if anything were to happen to them…

_Suddenly, and without warning, they faded away, slipping from her grasp and vanishing like fog. Dierdre felt an intense wave of vertigo and she screamed as her vision dimmed to nothing. _

_Her sight abruptly returned: she was in her battle-damaged ship, plunging through the atmosphere of an unidentified planet; the view screen showing nothing but white-hot flames of friction. The panel in front of her flashed frantic warning messages and sparks rained down from overhead. _

_It was agony to breathe. Smoke filled the cabin and her chest heaved in an effort to get oxygen to her aching lungs. She activated her Personal Shield and reached out with her armored hands to attempt to slow her descent, embers alighting and burning out on the faint blue radiance that enveloped her form like a second skin._

What was going on? What…

_Dierdre froze as the memories flooded back to her. Reminisces of pain. Of screams in the dark, silenced abruptly by bright flashes of laser fire. Of mech-fluid on the walls and the sharp coppery scent of human blood. Of sudden death and soul-crushing loss. _

_So many gone. Lost to her…_

No! Sweet Infinity; please no…

_The flight panel exploded in an eruption of sparks, licking flames and the ear-piercing shriek of tearing metal. The force of the explosion slammed into Dierdre's Shield and flung her out of her chair. She landed on her stomach, the air forcibly driven out of her body from the impact. Taking in a pained lungful of smoky air, she allowed her head to sink to the deck, her cheek resting on the warm metal. _

_Her whole body screamed in pain and her head was spinning from lack of oxygen. Her crippled ship trembled and bucked beneath her, onboard computers still valiantly trying to slow its descent. She could feel her consciousness slipping away from her, and she was sure she was about to die. _

_She couldn't have cared less. _

_She had failed. Failed them…_

"NO!"

She came awake with a start. Eyes wide and heart hammering, she raked the dark room with her sleep-blinded gaze. Her breath came in ragged gasps.

There was a loud pounding at the door, jolting her back to reality.

"Hey, Red! Are you okay?"

Dierdre suddenly realized that she was crouching like a cornered animal on her bed, sword in hand. The makeshift blankets and mattress she had scrounged from the storage bay were tangled in coils around her.

She slowly disentangled herself from her bedding and staggered over to the door. She opened it and looked into the concerned face of the Maximal youngster. "I'm fine, Cheetor."

Cheetor's expression was dubious. Frankly, she looked terrible. Her bedraggled hair had formed a frizzy halo about her head, she was breathing as if she had run for miles and her eyes were haunted. "Are you sure? You were yelling pretty loudly."

She leaned against the doorway. He was surprised to see her sword clutched tightly in her left hand; the fingers wrapped so tight around it that her knuckles shown as white as bone. "I'm sure."

Cheetor laid a sympathetic Transmetal hand on her shoulder. "It was a nightmare, wasn't it? I've had a few of those."

_A nightmare, if only it was…_ "Yes, that's it. Only a bad dream." She attempted a smile. "I guess I'll try to get back to sleep."

He knew that she was gently trying to get rid of him, so he let his hand drop back to his side. "Well, if you ever need a friend, I'm here. Whenever."

This time her smile was more genuine. "Thanks, Sky Cat. I will remember."

He grinned at her. "Good night, Dierdre."

The door closed with a soft hiss. He was about to turn away and walk back to the bridge, to complete his shift as night guard, when the door abruptly opened again.

"When I was… dreaming, was I just shouting incoherently, or did I use words?" Dierdre asked.

"You didn't scream that much. It was mostly 'No', and a couple of names. 'Quickblade' was one, and the other was something like, 'Jamel'? 'Jamul'? I'm not sure."

The muscles in her face twitched a little. She nodded her head and muttered, "Thanks."

Without another word, she stepped back into her dark room. The door slid shut for a final time, locking Dierdre in with her private pain.

* * *

The human silently ordered her sword to collapse. She felt the temporarily liquid metal slither up her arm like a hundred tiny snakes. After several moments of trying unsuccessfully to regain her composure, she decided she couldn't take it another moment. The walls were closing in on her.

She had to get outside.

* * *

Cheetor was zoning out at the scanners when she entered the bridge. With her armor in rest mode, her soft-soled shoes made no sound on the metal deck. She moved as silently as a ghost.

The young Maximal was jerked out of his daydream when Dierdre pushed a button on the console, opening the roof hatch. He stared at her in surprise. He had not heard her come in.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going out," answered Dierdre, her soft voice cracked with what might have been grief.

"But Optimus said…" Cheetor began.

"I don't care what Optimus said!" she snapped, ice blue eyes flashing in anger.

The human took a deep breath, visibly calming herself. "I'm sorry, Cheetor," she said in a considerably more gentle tone. "I'm just going to go out onto the roof for a while. I gave my promise to Primal that I wouldn't leave the base without him knowing. I intend to keep my word."

"Okay, Red." Cheetor was a kind spark, and he hated to see his new friend in distress, so he continued. "Um… I'm going to be relieved in a few cycles. Want me to join you?"

Dierdre patted him on the shoulder, warmed a little by the concern in his voice. "Thank you, but no. I'd rather be alone."

Before he had a chance to ask any more questions, the human crouched low, feeling the muscles in her legs tightening and coiling like springs. She shot upwards, catching onto the edge of the roof hatch and easily pulling herself up and over. The hatch closed slowly behind her.

* * *

It was a beautiful night. The sky was cloudless, giving her an unsurpassed view of the stars. Earth's familiar moon shone overhead, completely full except for a small slice carved out of the side, as if by a giant sword.

Dierdre wished it were raining. It would have better suited her mood.

She closed her eyes and let the night breeze tug playfully at her clothing. The moonlight touched her face in a soft caress, the silvery light smoothing out the sorrow that lined her features, making her seem calm and almost peaceful.

Inside, in the dark depths of her mind, she was far from peaceful.

_Unfair! No…Cannot be… Infinity, help me! Strike me down, save me, kill me so that I may wake from this nightmare!_

Her mind seemed to delight in torturing her. One horrible vision after another rolled across her consciousness, despite her best efforts to stop them, and she saw them again in their final moments. Images burned forever into her brain.

Quickblade, battle-axe a lethal blur in his hands, laughing in fierce joy as he fought alone against a horde of Predicon drones. He had bought the remaining squad members time to escape with his life. _I miss you, my soul-brother…_

Grace-Weaver, spark rising from her ruined frame, achingly beautiful and pulsing like a heartbeat, while Chang howled like a wounded animal in his grief, taking down Predicons with a savagery that bordered on the berserk. _Weaver, I don't know if he can survive long without you._

James burning inside his fighter, as his wife shrieked his name over and over again. Cassie joined her husband soon after, taking five of the fastest enemy ships with her. _Should have anticipated Ganitron's troop movements. Should have seen them sneaking up on us. Should have…_

Silver Star looking down at his missing legs, face fixed in incredulous horror. _We couldn't reach you in time. I'm so sorry, my friend._

Anthony falling without ceremony to the deck, a smoking crater in his chest. Angela dragging herself towards him, her healer's instincts and her own compassion urging her to help, despite the horrid wounds in her throat and shoulder. _Tony was dead before he hit the ground. There was nothing you could have done. Not your fault, Angel._

Jamal, blood shining like rubies against his copper skin and silver armor, dying in Dierdre's disbelieving arms. He had pushed her out of the way and taken the shot meant for her. _Dammit, Jamal, you brave idiot! Why did you do that! I wasn't worth it! I should have been the one to die, not you! Not you._

A tortured sob forced itself out from between Dierdre's lips. She hugged herself tightly, blindly seeking comfort and finding none, as she sank to her knees on the cold metal roof.

She had spent the last two days pushing her grief aside, trying desperately to deny that it even existed. That was apparently a mistake. The dream/memory brought everything crashing back to her with the force of a tidal wave. She was drowning.

_Infinity curse it to the Torments! I shouldn't care this much! It's war; people die in wars! I've seen death; I've caused it! It shouldn't bother me!_ She was crying again. Frag. _Then why does it feel like I'm about to die?_

Her whole body shook. She knew the reason. Her squadron had been her family, her only family since the deaths of her parents and the disappearance of her brother.

Some of her superiors had told her getting close was a mistake; that she should keep her distance from her squad. She had known from the first that that was the wrong approach. Her knowledge of them had allowed her to anticipate their reactions to a variety of situations, and had soothed the aching feeling of loneliness that had dogged her for most of her life. It had also made them fiercely loyal to her and to each other. Because of this, her squadron had survived many seemingly impossible missions, and earned themselves a somewhat legendary reputation in the Fleet.

Dierdre was now experiencing the flip side of such a close relationship. Seven members of her family were dead, and it felt as if part of her soul had been ripped away. The loss was made all the more keen with the knowledge that she had been the commander. She had ordered them to their deaths.

Loss… Alone…Guilt… _Sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive me, my friends. I failed you. I failed you all._

* * *

An indeterminate amount of time later the human's wild, hopeless sobbing began to ebb, leaving her feeling drained and so very, very tired.

Sitting back on her heels and sighing deeply, a subdued sound filled with melancholy, Dierdre unbraided her hair and shook it out. She glanced out of the corner of her eye as her one vanity began to gather around her face in a tangled waterfall of flame-red strands. Slowly and methodically, she began to untangle every strand with her slender fingers. The almost hypnotic action calmed her down a bit and permitted her mind to slow its swirl of memories and emotions.

Only when every last hair was untangled and falling smoothly down her back did she allow her hands to drop to her lap, where they immediately clenched into fists. Her grief was still present and probably always would be, but it had been dulled somewhat by anger and a heightened resolve.

In the memory of those who had died and for the sake of the ones who still lived --Nightflash, Cyteese, Chang and, if Infinity was kind, Angela-- she would take back that damnable disk from the Predicons and, somehow, find a way back to her own time. If she didn't, all their suffering, and hers, would have been for nothing.

_I may have failed my squad but I swear I will not fail my mission. I will not!_

* * *

Once upon a midnight dreary,  
A woman full of grace  
Feels alone and oh, so weary,  
Tears running down her face.

The grief for friends forever lost,  
The guilt that ever burns.  
She'd give her life, pay any cost  
For her family to return.

She wipes her face and heaves a sigh,  
And leans against the wall;  
She'd sworn that day she'd never cry,  
But God! She missed them all.

An image flashes in her mind;  
Holding Jamal as he dies.  
He tells her that he's not afraid,  
But she knows how well he lies.

He'd taken the shot meant for her,  
Blood mingling with the sands,  
Though Dierdre knows it was his choice,  
His blood clings to her hands.

And slowly, though her heart screams NO!  
She sees them all again;  
Not in death, but a harder blow:  
How it _should_ have been.

So full of life, and of laughter and love,  
The kinship there, but unsaid.  
She looks to the heavens, where the stars shine above,  
And asks, "Why aren't I, too, dead?"

So long did she stand there,  
Her heart in the past  
That she became unaware  
Of the time as it passed.

Finally she lay and closed her eyes,  
And prayed for a dreamless sleep.  
There was no time to agonize  
When she had promises to keep.

_

* * *

AN: Poem by Blackwidina who, aside from her obvious poetic talents, also happens to be a gifted writer. Check out her excellent fics at_


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Four  
**

Chapter 7

Rattrap was dozing peacefully at the scanners, feet propped up on the console and hands behind his head, when he was jolted awake by the muted sound of the roof hatch opening. With lightning reflexes born from a lawless youth on Thesba's first colony moon and honed by three stellar-cycles of near-constant battle, he drew his blaster and trained it on the figure dropping lightly to the deck.

Dierdre froze in a half-crouch, caught off guard. Her mind was scrambling to devise a plan of defense when the rodent's Transmetal finger relaxed off the trigger. "Oh, it's ya."

The woman straightened cautiously as Rattrap snorted and subspaced his weapon. "Didn't Cheetor tell you I was outside?"

"Da kiddo might 'ave mentioned somethin' about it." He settled himself comfortably back into his seat. "Didn't pay much attention."

Shaking her head in wry amusement, she muttered, "Wonderful."

"Eh… fleshie, jest what were ya doin' up dere?"

An unreadable emotion crossed her features. "Reaching a decision," was her only reply. She walked to the center corridor, only to stop at the entrance and look over her shoulder at Rattrap. When she spoke again her voice was calm, measured, but nevertheless held an edge of warning. "And my name's Dierdre, not 'fleshie.' You would do well to remember that."

She left without another word, feeling Rattrap's probing gaze bore into her back.

_

* * *

Finished._

Dierdre sighed in satisfaction and wiped her brow. It had taken the remainder of the night and most of the next morning, but she had finally completed all of the repairs to her Tech-Suit.

Setting her tool-kit aside, she ordered the armor into rest mode. She hefted the newly formed length of metal and, with a bit of careful maneuvering, reattached it to her TS-Connector. With the Falchonite2 plate now forming a familiar and comforting weight against her back, she advanced to the center of the room and spread her arms wide, the overhead lights casting her distorted shadow against the gunmetal gray walls. At her silent command, the metal lost its solidity and began to flow in mercurial rivulets over her shoulders and down her back, encasing her arms, legs and torso in its cool grip. Once the transformation was complete and the armor solidified, she performed a series of careful stretches, noting with professional pride how the suit expanded and contracted with her every movement, like a second skin.

Standing still once more, she concentrated for a moment and part of the metal band that encircled her brow dissolved into its component atoms. The metal slid down over her right eye and almost immediately solidified, looking for all the world like the eye patch of an ancient Earth pirate. She ran a self-diagnostic, ivory numbers and Anglic lettering running with brisk efficiency across the tiny screen just millimeters from her pupil. Satisfied, Dierdre sent it a final mental nudge and the metal crawled back up the woman's face, where it again merged with the circlet. Everything checked out at optimum capacity, but she had to be certain.

Time for a test.

* * *

At the bridge, Optimus looked up from his consultation with Rhinox at the faint sound of footsteps emanating from the central passage. The Maximal commander had long since learned to identify each bot under his command just from the sound they made as they walked. These footfalls were much too light to have been made by any of his crew, which meant…

"Good morning, Dierdre."

The human came to a halt beside the central console and grinned tiredly at him. "Nearly afternoon."

Rhinox swiveled around in his seat and eyed the human. Even to his inexperienced eye the exhaustion that had darkened the skin around her eyes was noticeable, yet her grin was genuine and slightly triumphant. It was easy to understand the reason behind her smile, for even in the relatively dim lighting of the bridge her suit gleamed; its silver surface smooth and unmarred. "You finished the repairs," he stated.

Her grin widened further and she nodded, pirouetting for the technician's benefit, who watched with scientific interest as her armor shifted and stretched to accommodate her every movement. Rhinox's optics narrowed thoughtfully. This Falchonite2 metal really was fascinating. If he could convince Dierdre to become a proverbial guinea pig one more time, there was a whole new slew of tests he wished to try.

Unaware of his thoughts, Dierdre stopped her playful spin and once again grew serious. "My diagnostics check out normal," she said to Primal, "but I still need to perform a field test on my flight systems. Could I borrow Silverbolt or Cheetor for an hour or two?"

Optimus nodded. "Silverbolt's working in the hold at the moment, but Cheetor's available." He turned to the console long enough to summon the aforementioned cat before continuing, "While you're out there Cheetor can show you the borders of our territory and the location of our jamming towers. You'll be able to get a better idea of the layout than you would just by looking at the grid maps."

Dierdre nodded in agreement just as Cheetor bounded in with his usual exuberance. He tossed her a quick grin before focusing on Optimus. "Hey, Big Bot. What'd you want me for?"

As Optimus explained to Cheetor his assignment, the human moved to the console. At the touch of a button the roof hatch slid back with a familiar hiss, flooding the room with light. A slight breeze wafted in, bringing with it the scent of some exotic flower, and Dierdre inhaled deeply, her weariness fading away. It had been too long since she had flown unhindered through the blue skies of her homeworld.

She focused inward, her lids at half-mast, and the metal that spanned her shoulder blades began to writhe. It spread outward on either side of her body, solidifying in less than two spans of a human heartbeat into two stubby wings, each end tipped with a small bulge that marked the location of an engine turbine.

"Are you ready to leave, Cheetor?" At the other's nod, Dierdre continued, "Then let's see if a human can out-fly a cat."

Her engines flared to life and the air in the bridge vibrated with a sound reminiscent of the roar of a distant lion. A sudden gust of wind whipped around the room… and then she was gone, darting through the roof hatch and into the late morning sky with the swiftness of an arrow.

"Hey, no fair!" Cheetor laughingly declared. He raced to the lift and activated it, leaping off before it had descended even halfway. There was a brief sound of running feet, and when Rhinox looked up a moment later two flashes of silver and gold could be seen chasing each other across the sky.

Optimus closed the hatch, once again shutting the bridge away from the outside world, his mouth curved into a slightly pensive frown. The expression was not lost to Rhinox, who said, "They'll look out for each other, Optimus. Don't worry."

"That's not my concern."

Rhinox raised an eye ridge. "Then what?"

"Two solar-cycles ago, Dierdre gave me her word that she would not leave the base until the repairs on her body armor were complete. She kept her promise, but now there is nothing binding her here. Unless we can convince her to let us assist in her hunt for the data disk," Optimus crossed his arms with a low exhale, "I fear she might try something foolish."

* * *

"Waspinator! Cease with that incessant buzzing, you imbecilic waste of cerebral-circuitry, or I shall use you for target practice! Oh, _yes_..."

To say Megatron was annoyed was not saying much. The Predacon leader had spent the better part of two solar-cycles bent over a computer terminal, forgoing rest and recharge in an attempt to decipher the code imbedded into the human's data disk. Yet, despite this intensity of concentration, he had made far less progress than he had initially postulated. The code had proven to be infuriatingly complex; as intricate and multilayered as a DNA strand, and fraught with dead-ends, pitfalls, useless copy ciphers and decoy binaries. The creators of this code had obviously gone to great pains to protect the disk's contents, and Megatron's desire to know its secrets had grown from mere opportunistic curiosity to borderline obsession.

Oh, yes, Megatron was an unhappy tyrant. And the fact that Waspinator had spent nearly half a mega-cycle circling overhead, his irregular wing beats creating strange echoes against the battle bridge's high metal dome, was _not_helping matters.

The buzzing stopped abruptly, and moments later a giant wasp-shaped robot touched down on a platform stretching over the bubbling lava pool. "Wazzpinator zorry," he quavered.

"As well you should be. Now… GET OUT!"

Transforming to beast mode with a startled yelp, he hurriedly shot through one of the many corridors that led away from the battle bridge. As the erratic echo of his wings faded, his plaintive question, "Why doez everybot hate Wazzpinator?" wafted forlornly back to his leader's indifferent audio sensors.

Unable to control his anger, Megatron brought his fist down hard against the side of the computer console and glared at the screen, as if he could force the code to untangle itself by sheer strength of fury. Over a cycle passed before his optics narrowed further, as his agile mind observed something it had not noticed before. All anger forgotten, he leaned forward and began to type rapidly, manipulating the lines of code in an elaborate dance that few would be able to comprehend.

A few moments later, the screen flickered and the lines of code began to distort. His mouth curved upwards with the beginnings of smug satisfaction. This had not happened before; he must have deciphered it!

Megatron was silently congratulating himself on his brilliance when the screen flickered fitfully and went suddenly dark. "What in the Pit..?"

As if in answer, a mocking human voice, speaking in a language he had heard only once before, emanated from the console's speakers: "_Dai, dai, na dai! Septicum weat, Predico!"_

Before he could do anything of consequence every light on the _Darkside_began to power down with a high descending whine; a sound as ominous and unstoppable as the passage of time. Soon not even the emergency lights were working.

Megatron's bellow of outrage could be heard halfway to the _Axalon_.

* * *

Dierdre's laughter wafted up to Cheetor's audio sensors as he cavorted just under the bellies of the clouds, twisting and turning in a wild dance with the wind. Encouraged by the sound, he increased his speed, performing a quick series of summersaults that left his internal gyroscope protesting feebly and ending with a dramatic vertical climb; arching upward through a gap in the cumulous, his mouth open as if to catch the sun in his teeth. He was rewarded for this latest trick by another peal of mirth from the figure beneath him.

Feeling dizzy but more than a little pleased with himself, he drifted lazily down to fly alongside her. The human, who had continued to fly sedately when Cheetor began his impromptu aerial performance, smothered a spreading grin behind her hand. He tossed a smile in her direction before glancing down at the terrain passing slowly beneath them. It was good to hear her laugh; especially after the deep depression that had seemed dangerously close to smothering her last night.

Cheetor had grown quite fond of the human over the past few solar-cycles. She was interesting --a human! An actual living, breathing entity, not just a badly digitized holo projection like the ones made during the Great War-- and, most importantly, she had been kind to him. It was refreshing to talk with someone who knew nothing about his past exploits and, therefore, didn't treat him as if he were a slightly dimwitted child. She had listened intently to him when he had taken her on a tour of the base, and had seemed to find the information he imparted about the Predacons and their ship instructive. He hadn't felt so… _useful_in quite some time.

She had struck him as a fundamentally good-natured and cheerful person, which was why last night had come as something of a shock. She had seemed so incredibly sad just before she made her escape to the roof of the Axalon, and her shoulders had been uncharacteristically stooped, as if the weight of the world rested squarely between her shoulder blades. Her eyes had seemed a thousand years old.

What could have happened to her to make her eyes like that?

He firmly suppressed the curiosity those disturbing thoughts aroused and cast a sidelong glance at Dierdre. She was flying easily beside him; her eyes narrowed against the wind that lashed at her red braid, her mouth curved into a slight frown. Her attention seemed to be focused inward.

His optics narrowed in a way that had nothing to do with the wind. Oh, no, she doesn't! He had worked hard this morning to chase the sadness from her eyes, and he wasn't about to let her ruin her burgeoning good mood with pensive musings.

"Hey, Red!" he called, his voice raised to be heard over the combined whine of their engines. "The next jamming tower is only a few klicks away; I'll race you! I might even let you win this time." He winked at her as best as his beast-mode was capable.

Dierdre automatically opened her mouth to decline, when something stopped the words in her throat. She was supposed to be scouting out the terrain, true, but between here and the next tower there wasn't really much to see. They were well within Maximal territory and a recent scanner sweep had revealed no Predacons within a seven kilometer radius.

She sighed. It was tempting, but…

A glance in Cheetor's direction quickly melted the last of her resistance. He looked eager, and so hopeful that it was nearly impossible to refuse him. It would be like kicking a puppy. Besides, an internal voice suddenly declared, she deserved a little fun, didn't she? It would probably be a very long time before she had a chance to enjoy herself like this again.

"You're on, Cheetor!" she cried, a silent command causing her engines to roar and flare with renewed life. She shot forward, moving so quickly that she failed to notice Cheetor's triumphant grin as he increased his speed to catch up.

* * *

"_Optimus."_

The Maximal commander looked up from his computer console with a grunt of enquiry at the unexpected sound of Rhinox's voice. A moment later he spoke to the empty air, "What is it, Rhinox?"

Static crackled over the intercom in a short staccato burst. _"Something's happening over at the Pred base. You'd better get down here."_

Somewhat grateful for the interruption, he turned his attention away from the latest worrying Energon consumption analysis and stood up. "I'm on my way."

* * *

Optimus peered over his science officer's broad shoulder as information scrolled across the console, data interspersed with grainy photos of the downed Predacon ship made even less distinct by the utter lack of lighting anywhere on the base. "How did this happen?"

Big hands moved with blurring speed as Rhinox fought to pull up more data from the uncooperative perimeter scanners. "I'm not sure," he admitted, "but it seems like the _Darkside's_main computer suffered a massive power surge right before it shut down."

"Hrm… Natural systems degradation?"

"Possible, but unlikely. If they have any sense at all, they'd have all pertinent systems backed up on a secondary computer for just such an eventuality." Rhinox highlighted a strand of data. "And it seems that _all_their ship's systems are down, not just the main computer. For the moment, it's a dead base."

"Can you postulate how long this power outage will last?" Optimus muttered lowly, a dozen possible ways to capitalize on this advantage flickering behind his optics.

After a short pause and a busy moment of typing, Rhinox shook his head. "Negative. I can't even begin to guess until I know what caused it in the first place."

"Prime," he sighed, straightening and crossing his arms. Fingers drumming absently against his left forearm, he seemed in deep thought. The rhythmic tapping stopped as he abruptly extended an arm and pressed a button on the console, activating the _Axalon's_communication system. After a brief moment of fiddling with the frequency dial, he leaned forward and spoke, "Dierdre, this is Optimus Primal. Do you read me?"

Response came quickly. "I copy, Optimus," Dierdre said over her communicator, sounding a bit out of breath, but cheerful.

"Is your scanner powerful enough to perform a quick sweep of the Predacon base from your location?" At her affirmative, he continued before she could give voice to any questions, "Then do so now, please. There is something I'd like for you to see."

The background hum of her suit's engines dropped several decibels as she complied, halting her forward momentum to hover like a hummingbird. There was a mechanical chattering as she activated her scanner followed by a long pause, which was abruptly shattered by a sharp gasp and a vehement "_Haave_!".

Suspicions confirmed by her reaction, Optimus stated, "This power outage is the result of one of those 'safeguards' that protect your data disk."

"Yes," the human grimly confirmed, all traces of former levity leeching from her voice as though they had never been. "Cheetor and I are coming in now. ETA; twelve cycles."

"Acknowledged," he replied. "See you soon. Optimus out."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

By the time Dierdre and Cheetor ascended the lift to the _Axalon's_ bridge, the remaining Maximals had already responded to Optimus's call. They milled about the bridge, alternately peering over Rhinox's shoulder to the data scrolling across the console and talking lowly amongst themselves. Although everyone seemed relatively calm considering the circumstances, an undercurrent of excitement and tension rendered the bridge's atmosphere almost tangible.

Dierdre strode forward, sidestepping Dinobot and gently shouldering Silverbolt aside, to stand behind Rhinox and stare with narrowed eyes at the grainy image displayed by the perimeter scanners. The bulkhead lights –as well as just about every other system in the downed ship, if her scanner readings were correct- had been snuffed out like a candle flame, cloaking the Predacon base in darkness.

The human struggled to keep emotion from playing across her face, but inside she was cursing bitterly. Infinity's blood and damnation; it was too soon!

Apparently she was not entirely successful in maintaining outward tranquility, for Silverbolt gave her a curious look and seemed about to ask her a question. He was interrupted, however, by an oblivious Rhinox, whose attention was still firmly fixed on the screens, "Dierdre, how exactly did this happen?"

"As I have already told you," she said slowly, "the code was designed by our government to protect the contents stored within the data disk. I'm not a scientist," -an image of Cyteese flashed poignantly across her consciousness- "so I can't give you all the details, but apparently someone tripped one of the code's fail-safes while attempting to decrypt it. It sent out a virus through the computer, one specifically engineered to overload all pertinent systems on the ship."

There was a brief clacking of claws and a beast-moded Dinobot stepped into her peripheral vision, glaring momentarily at the screens before fixing his feral gaze upon their leader. "Optimus," he snarled, "we must not waste this opportunity. With their outer defenses gone, they have been rendered… vulnerable. If we attack now we could overrun them easily!"

"The thought has occurred to me," Optimus quietly responded. "However, I don't intend to rush headlong into danger just yet." The _Axalon's_ commander took no offence as Dinobot immediately launched into a thunderous tirade about Maximal timidity; instead he quite calmly reached out and clamped the raptor's jaws shut with one powerful Transmetal hand. With his voice rose slightly to be heard over Dinobot's muffled curses and Rattrap's amused sniggering, he glanced at Dierdre and asked, "Approximately how long will it take before the Predacons can regain power?"

"According to the military scientists that created this code, it should take them at least a solar-cycle to return to full power." At the excited stirrings of those around her, Dierdre held up an arresting hand. She grimaced, and the reason for her agitation became apparent as she said, "However, I don't know if that will actually be the case. If the decryption had proceeded at the expected rate, this particular failsafe shouldn't have been tripped for at least another couple of days.

"Either one of the Predacons aboard _Darkside_ is more brilliant than all the finest military minds in the Maximal-Terran Alliance put together, or-" her gaze flicked quickly to Optimus, and consequently he was the only one to see the burgeoning panic threatening to claw its way through her forced calm, "something has gone wrong. The _Darkside's_ computers run differently from their future counterparts; perhaps that is what has allowed the hacker to delve so deep into the code so quickly." Dierdre chuckled; a short-lived sound devoid of humor. "Our scientists didn't account for time travel."

"Eh, so what's on this disk, anyway?" Rattrap interjected. "It's gotta be somethin' pretty important to get ya this riled up."

"The encrypted information is classified, but trust me; it's important." Teeth flashed whitely in what might have been a grin. "The Fleet wouldn't send their finest squadron out on a suicide mission for something trivial."

"Fer bein' commander of the 'finest squadron in the Fleet', you don't seem ta be doin' so hot," the rodent huffed. "You were here for -what? five cycles?- before you lost the slaggin' thing."

Dierdre's face paled, an interesting reaction Rattrap had never seen before. He waited intently for a comeback as her fists clenched and eyes began to blaze, but was interrupted by a sharp thump to the back of the head by Optimus. "Hey!"

"Shut up, Rattrap," Optimus rebuked. He then focused his attention on the human, who seemed to be holding off an enraged explosion by effort of will alone. "Dierdre," he said. Startled at the sound of her name, she flinched a little and turned towards him. "Would you come with me, please? I would like to talk with you for a moment."

When he saw her nod stiffly in agreement, some of the wrath fading from her expression, he turned to the others. "Sit tight, Maximals. We'll be back soon."

* * *

Stepping through the door at the behest of Optimus, Dierdre peered discreetly around the Maximal leader's quarters. Warm afternoon light filtered in from a large panel of transparent steel set behind his desk, illuminating the simple furnishings. Although comfortable, the lack of personal possessions gave the room away for what it was; a place to work and recharge, not to live.

Settling himself in a high-backed chair behind his desk, he gestured to the seat meant for visitors. Dierdre slowly took the proffered chair, her expression guarded. "Try not to take what Rattrap said personally," Optimus began. "It's just his nature. He loves to argue, I'm afraid, and has developed provoking people into something of an art form."

Upon seeing his sympathetic and slightly amused expression, her eyes lit up with the beginnings of humor. "I take it not even the _Axalon's_ Commander has escaped his attentions."

He shook his head with an exaggerated air of long-suffering. "I seem to be one of his favorite targets."

She smiled outright at that, the last of her anger fading away. Her fingers brushed across the maroon band that encircled her upper left arm. "Never a dull moment in this business, is there?"

"Never," Optimus agreed. From what little she had told him about the squadron she had once commanded, he got the distinct impression that she also knew what it was like to lead such a mismatched group of people. Dierdre caught his gaze and something passed between them; a shared moment of perfect understanding. Oh, yes, she knew.

The moment passed and Dierdre glanced down briefly with a sigh. When she looked up her eyes were once again serious. "Optimus, I have a request."

The Maximal leader raised an eyeridge at that. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on the desk top's polished metal and laced his fingers together. Although he was fairly certain he knew where this conversation was headed –had in fact, brought her here with the suspicion that she would broach the subject, but only in private– he nevertheless asked, "What is it, Dierdre?"

"As I'm sure you've already guessed, I had originally planned to wait until my Tech-suit was repaired and my promise to you fulfilled… before leaving at nightfall to infiltrate the Predacon base on my own." Her mouth curved into a smile edged with self-deprecation. "At the time I felt that retrieving the disk was my duty to fulfill and no one else's. I didn't think I needed help.

"However, I came to a realization last night. I have been letting personal feelings cloud my judgment on something that should have been obvious: I can't recover the disk on my own." She raked her fingers through her hair, an unconscious, angry gesture. "I won't insult the memories of my squadron by getting myself killed foolishly."

Optimus nodded slowly. "And so now you are asking for assistance in reclaiming the data disk."

"Yes. And soon, before the Predacons have time to restore power to their base."

He straightened in his chair and for a long moment stared thoughtfully at the human. Taking in her ramrod straight posture and carefully neutral expression, eyes betraying her with their potent mixture of hope and apprehension, he made his decision. "We will help you."

All the tension seemed to drain out of her, causing her shoulders to stoop a little. She smiled suddenly, a soft curve on a face bright with relief, and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She seemed about to speak again, so Optimus quickly held up an arresting hand. "However, before I send my people into danger, I must know: what's on the data disk?"

Her expression clouded over and she tensed again, jaw tightening involuntarily. The information was highly classified and instincts cultivated for over a quarter century screamed of security breaches, but… "I suppose you have a right to know." She sighed lowly and stared intently at him from across the wide metal desk. "I have your word that what I'm about to tell you will never be entered into the _Axalon's_ computer files and that you will speak of this to no one."

The Maximal commander smiled involuntarily at her phrasing, a reminder of another conversation which took place less than three stellar-cycles ago. He nodded. "You honored your promise, Dierdre, and as long as the information doesn't directly endanger the lives of my people, so will I."

She hesitated at his choice of words, but then dipped her head in acknowledgement. It would have to do. Shifting in her seat and looking for a moment as if she'd like nothing better than to flee the room, she made herself relax, one reluctant muscle at a time. "Before I tell you what's on the disk, you must know a little about the time I came from." She crossed her arms over her chest and began her tale.

"Long before the Human Revelation --when humanity first announced itself to the galaxy as Cybertron's equals-- most Predacons of a military bent had been driven out of Cybertron, forced to reside on second-rate colony worlds past the outskirts of Maximal territory. The Predacons who were allowed to remain on Cybertron had been absorbed into Maximal society and caused little trouble, but the exiled ones were naturally quite upset with their lot. Using what little resources they still possessed, they struck back. Mostly quick raids against Maximal border stations, but occasionally hostile strikes deeper into the territory. Each time they were driven past the borders by the Maximal military, but due to the ruling of the Elders, little else was done.

"These skirmishes were still taking place when humans and Maximals first began negotiations, but attacks petered off rapidly once the Alliance was formed. It was believed that the banished Predacons feared the additional power brought about by this union would encourage the Maximals to move against them in force. This suspicion seemed to be confirmed when a transmission was sent to the High council, requesting a truce. It was granted to them, and their colony worlds and the surrounding area was declared off-limits to the Alliance.

"Decades passed with virtually no contact from the exiles and the Alliance steadily grew in strength. Humans and Maximals began to gradually integrate our societies, combining our technology and military forces. As the Alliance approached its first Golden Age, we had earned a reputation as one of the most powerful peacekeeping forces in the galaxy. The exiled Predacons were virtually forgotten."

Optimus found himself once again leaning forward in his seat, the unconscious movement displaying his interest in this glimpse of the future. When she paused in the telling, her words trailing off, he encouraged her by asking a question that had interested him ever since she first awoke in the _Axalon_, "You've mentioned Ganitron before. Who is he?"

The mention of the name caused a sigh to hiss through her teeth. Her eyes narrowed and she spoke with a voice made deep with old hatred, "Ganitron… Ganitron is a pestilence, a plague upon civilization. He's a deceitful and scheming bot, far worse than the Megatron of the Great War could ever hope to be."

"What did he do?"

"During my second year of Academy training, a ship appeared at the edge of our territory. It was quickly intercepted by one of our border patrols but not destroyed due to the startling message it was broadcasting: a desire for peace, true peace between the exiled Predacons and the Alliance.

"The ship was detained until an envoy from the Alliance could get there. The diplomat arrived skeptical and suspicious of the Preds true intentions, but the leader of the Predacon ship was earnest, charismatic and practically radiated sincerity.

"His name was Ganitron and he claimed to be a representative from the exiled Predacon colonies. He said his government was tired of the bad blood that still existed between the Maximals and their kind, and that the truce was nothing but a stopgap measure, a temporary solution to a millennia-old problem.

"The only true way to end the animosity between the Predacons and the Maximals was reconciliation. He had come to negotiate for the reopening of communications between the Predacons and Cybertron, as well as the gradual introduction of trade between the two territories. But, most importantly, he claimed he was there to plea for the exiles' return to Cybertron. They wanted to join the Alliance.

"The ship was sent back to its colony worlds and cautious negotiations continued via remote transmission. The parley between our respective governments was highly classified, but as what often happens with such things, the word got out.

"You can imagine the uproar this bit of information stirred throughout the Alliance. The Councils did their best to downplay the issue and calm the populace, but this seemed to only add fuel to the fire. Lobbyists both for and against the union picketed the Alliance Headquarters, riots broke out almost daily and the name 'Ganitron' seemed to be on everyone's lips. Some people believed he was a Judas goat; someone who would lead us all to slaughter with his pretty words and lofty promises. Others, however, regarded him as a visionary destined to bring about a true Golden Age for all our people.

"I don't know for sure, but I believe it was the intense public pressure from both these groups that finally forced the Alliance's hand. Under ordinary circumstances it might have taken over a decade to make any headway, but as such it was only two years later that the Councils agreed to meet in person with Ganitron and his followers.

"The parley was to take place on the barren planet of Feyl, whose tri-starred system was located almost exactly in the middle of the Predacon and the Maximal-Terran Alliance borders. Leaders from all three powers agreed to meet in a geosynchronous orbit above Feyl's atmosphere, bringing only essential personnel. All ships were to be unarmed.

"All in all, six Terran and Maximal delegates met with Ganitron and two other Predacon leaders. Apparently the alliance proposal, despite Ganitron's claims to the contrary, was a severe bone of contention among the Predacon Coalition and its people, and these two bots were the only ones in power willing to stick their necks so far out for Ganitron's cause."

Voice already growing hoarse from the telling, Dierdre cleared her throat. "The negotiations had been going on for only a few hours before disaster struck. In the middle of a video conference, and with virtually no warning, Ganitron's ship sent out a pulse of energy that radiated quickly outward, washing over every other ship in the system. Some of the ships were able to activate shields before the pulse reached them, but it punched through their defenses as if they didn't exist.

"Three squadrons of Alliance fighter pilots, left on the outskirts of the system as a precautionary measure, quickly surrounded Ganitron's ship and opened fire. They were only able to get a few shots in, however, before something went terribly wrong. One by one, vital systems within both the fighter and delegation ships began to shut down. Everyone, human and Maximal alike, worked frantically to restore power to their ships' failing equipment, but it proved futile; the Energon every ship used for power had been rendered inert, as useless to the ships' systems as water.

"Within the space of a few minutes most of the little fighter ships were drifting through space like so much scrap metal. The delegates' ships were much bigger and so it took longer, but since their engines were one of the first things to go they were unable to flee. They were forced to watch as their ship died a piece at a time, until they were rendered powerless, floating helplessly alongside the stricken Predacon leaders' ships.

"Ganitron didn't give the human passengers and crew time to suffocate from lack of life-support, however. Moments after the ships were completely disabled a fleet of Predacon warships entered the solar system and opened fire. It was a slaughter."

Dierdre grimaced slightly at that last sentence, a memory of old pain flickering for a moment behind her eyes. "My mother was a secretary for one of the Maximal delegates. She was killed during what later became known as the Feylian Massacre." Shaking her head, she quickly composed herself before continuing, "It turns out Ganitron really was acting under the orders of the Predacon Coalition's High Council, but instead of peace talks the Feylian rendezvous was really an opportunity to field test their latest invention… and a chance to weed out those within their government who might have opposed their campaign."

"The plan worked wonderfully in most respects, but the Predacon High Council made one mistake; the two Predacon leaders who were killed were popular with certain factions in the Coalition. Soon after the Massacre some of those factions defected over to the Alliance." She grinned then, and there was a trace of real humor behind her smile. "We got some damn fine soldiers and military strategists out of that deal."

The woman spread her hands and shrugged. "There's not much else to tell. The Alliance has been at war for nearly a quarter century, and it's proven to be one of the worst in our respective histories. We have the advantage of numbers even now, but this new Predacon weapon has been installed into nearly every warship they possess. This device takes a while to generate enough power to activate, so if we can quickly take out the warships we stand a chance of winning against the smaller fighters. If not, we die. Our scientists have done their best to counter this new technology, but so far nothing they've tried has proven consistently effective." She sighed lowly. "To be frank, Optimus; we're losing.

"That's why my government sent my squadron behind enemy lines; to infiltrate the Predacon's top military installation and steal the blueprints to the Predacon's null device. At great cost to ourselves we succeeded in hacking into the station's master computer and stealing the plans. We encoded them within the disk in the hopes of preventing anyone else from obtaining such a powerful weapon." She fiddled absently with her braid, and for the first time since she began her tale, looked at Optimus directly. Her expression was eloquent. "That disk is now three million years in the past, in the hands of someone who has taken the name of the most dangerous Decepticon in history."

Tale finally completed, Dierdre sat back in her seat and coughed, wishing absently for water. Optimus sat unmoving behind his desk, wrapped in that utter stillness some Transformers can achieve when they're processing information, as if they would disappear if you turned your attention away for an instant.

Finally, he sighed, and sense of life once again filled him. "I know you took a great risk in telling me what you have," he said levelly. "Thank you for trusting me."

She nodded and smiled sadly, almost regretfully. "Instead of you thanking me, Optimus, I feel like I owe you an apology. It is entirely possible that you will escape this time and live to witness the events I just described… and if you keep your word to me you will be unable to prevent any of it. That's a terrible burden to bear."

"I am beginning to realize that," he said quietly. He fell silent for a moment, then gave her a thoughtful look. "I have a question. I know it's against protocol, but why wouldn't you, personally, want me to tell my government all this? With forewarning so much suffering could be prevented."

It was an important question, so she answered carefully. "I'm not sure if the future _can_ be changed, but if it could and your Council of Elders was to believe you, it could prevent a lot of sorrow. However, in so doing it would also eliminate what good has come out of this mess. The war has brought humans and Maximals closer together in a few short years than two centuries of peace were able to accomplish. And if the Feylian Massacre had never taken place the Liberator Predacons would never have defected to our side, depriving us of some of the finest military minds we've ever had. If we win this war, the Alliance will be the stronger for what it has been through."

She paused and took a deep breath. "On a more personal level, everything that's happened since the war began --both good and bad-- have shaped me into the person I am today. If the future were to be changed I would alter with it… and I wouldn't be _me_ anymore. The things I've done, the people I've met, it would all be gone. And who knows what kind of person I might turn out to be?" She shivered involuntarily. "The idea is disquieting."

Optimus dipped his head in appreciation of her honesty as she fell quiet once again; any lingering doubts about the promise he'd made quickly fading. Considering the magnitude of what he had just learned, however --the very idea of Megatron with such a powerful weapon left him feeling cold-- he decided it was high time for a subject change. "So we've established why Megatron can't be allowed to keep the disk, now we've just got to figure out how. Any ideas?"

Dierdre smiled slightly. Scooting forward, she propped her arms up on the desk and said, "I have a few."

* * *

"Well, you've managed to quite thoroughly trash our computers," Tarantulas sardonically observed, his tri-fingered hands moving with blurring speed over his laptop's keypad. The computer with its self-contained energy source had been one of the only things to survive the sudden blackout, and Tarantulas --who had protected it with every virus blocker and firewall he could find or invent before cautiously hooking it into the main computer-- intended to keep it that way. The precautions he had taken were working well so far, and so he was able to get a glimpse of the virus and the effect it was having on the _Darkside's_ computers with little worry of infection.

After a few busy minutes of typing and surreptitious observation, the Predacon scientist spoke again. "Mmm…Incredible! I've studied just about every virus ever catalogued in Cybertron's Great Library, but I've never heard of this one before. The coding isn't even in a language I recognize." Tarantulas swiveled around in his seat and gave his seething leader a piercing look. "Why, Megatron, what _have_ you been up to?"

"Never mind that," Megatron gritted. His hand tightened involuntarily over the secret compartment in the arm of his chair, in which the damnable cause of this whole mess had been hastily stored. "Can you restore operation to our base?"

Tarantulas looked mildly insulted. "Of course I can. Your virus hasn't wiped the mainframe, but merely overloaded it and forced a system-wide shutdown. Just give me a few mega-cycles and some privacy so I can concentrate, and I'll soon purge your little mistake from _Darkside's_ mainframe and repair the damage it caused."

"Good. I suggest you start now," he said with barely restrained patience. This had _not_ been a good day, and he found himself secretly grateful that he had already ordered the others out of the base on watch for Maximals. Without the presence of an audience, it was just barely possible that Tarantulas might get on with his job with no more than this token show of smugness

"All in good time," the scientist sniggered, leaning back and propping his feet against one of the darkened consoles. "Right after you tell me just what stupidity you were performing to unleash such a nasty surprise." Apparently he was determined to test his leader's sanity after all.

Megatron's temper snapped, and his optics narrowed to thin slits of ruby fire in the dim light. Bad enough that he had been forced to call Tarantulas in from his private lair and recruit his help, but having the accursed arachnid mocking him so blatantly was intolerable! Perhaps the fool needed a reminder…

With a speed that seemed impossible for one his size, Megatron pushed off from his throne and landed smoothly on the deck. Tarantulas was skilled in the art of combat and quite fast in his own right, but nevertheless he had barely begun to straighten in his seat before a powerful hand encircled his throat in an almost crushing grip, pulling him from his chair and hoisting him bodily over the edge of the platform. He instantly stopped struggling as he felt the heat radiating from the liquid rock below and allowed himself to hang limply, only the spasmodic clutching of his hands on Megatron's arm betraying his apprehension. It was possible that his new Transmetal form would survive even that kind of blistering heat, but he had no desire to test out the theory in such a potentially permanent way.

"I would suggest that you remember to whom you are speaking," Megatron began, his even tones belying the rage in his crimson optics, "And do not presume that your skills render you immune to my wrath. If you continue with your inane banter, rest assured that I will gladly terminate you and find some other way to repair my ship." He tightened his grip and felt the metal beneath his hand begin to give way with a high-pitched squeal of protest. "Do you understand me, Tarantulas?"

"Implicitly," came the choked reply.

"Excellent." With that, he tossed the arachnid back into his abandoned seat with a careless flick of his wrist. As Tarantulas crumpled forward, clutching at his throat, he said, "Now get to work."

A damage report began to trickle down his vision as he listened to Megatron's heavy footsteps recede down the central corridor, leaving him with his asked-for privacy. "Slag you," he finally rasped, his voice echoing strangely in the utter stillness of the Battle Bridge, "You'll pay for that."

* * *

"Aw, man! What'd I ever do ta deserve this?"

Dierdre grimaced as Rattrap drove heedlessly over the rocky terrain, not seeming to know or care that his breakneck pace was jarring his hapless passenger mercilessly and pelting her with an endless rain of flung gravel. Gritting her teeth to keep from biting through her tongue, she spoke jerkily, "This isn't exactly a picnic for me either, Rattrap."

Rattrap huffed. "Like ya got any room ta complain. I'm the one haulin' yer fleshy carcass around like a sack ah lug nuts!"

This was, of course, an exaggeration. Dierdre was no burden --even with the addition of her armor he could barely feel her weight on his back-- but Rattrap was not in the mood to be anything but snippy. That blasted ape had done it again! He wasn't quite sure how he had let himself be talked into this mess, but nevertheless here he was, about to infiltrate the Predacon base for what seemed the umpteenth time. _Da Preds should just install a revolvin' door an' be done with it_, he thought sourly.

"An' I still don't see why ya can't just transport us straight inta the base," he continued grumpily, more out of a desire to distract himself from thoughts of the coming festivities than out of any real incomprehension. The Preds had to know that they would try something like this, and despite the plan Optimus and Dierdre devised, he was certain he would be looking down the wrong end of a laser pistol before the night was over.

Ah, slaggit all. At least this time he had company…

"Unlike you, Rattra-" her words cut off as Rattrap swerved sharply to avoid a large pothole, looming suddenly out of the darkness, "-I've never been in the Predacon base before. I need to be able to visualize the place clearly in my mind before I transport, otherwise I'm blind-flying." With her eyes narrowed against the tossed stone chips and hands locked in a death-grip around one of Rattrap's spinal ridges, she smiled tightly. "And unless you have a burning desire to be molecularly bonded with a bulkhead, I wouldn't recommend it."

"Heh… I think I'll pass."

A sudden rumble from overhead drowned out Dierdre's snort of amusement. She glanced up at the cloud-obscured sky just in time for the first fat drops of rain to splash wetly against her cheeks. _Of course_, she thought with mild annoyance, _NOW it rains._

Optimus and Dierdre had outlined their plans with the rest of the Maximals several hours previously, and although it took quite a few minutes of patient explanation and carefully edited information, the others had all finally agreed: the disk must not remain with Megatron any longer. They had waited until nightfall before departing for the Predacon base, with Rattrap and Dierdre taking a more circuitous path to give the others time to get into position.

The duo had made good time despite the scenic route and should arrive at their destination right on schedule, although this knowledge did little to improve Dierdre's mood. The night had barely begun and already she was tired from lack of sleep, sore from the bumpy ride and in the process of getting quite thoroughly soaked. Not a good start to what promised to be a perilous mission, in her opinion.

The rain was beginning to sheet down in earnest when Rattrap slowed his breakneck pace and coasted to a standstill. "This is our stop, sista. We hoof it from here."

Dierdre climbed stiffly off the Transmetal's back and stretched gratefully as Rattrap transformed in a flurry of water droplets. Pushing errant strands of wet hair away from her face, she began walking briskly with Rattrap leading a pace ahead. Any discomfort was forgotten as she concentrated on keeping her footing on the treacherous terrain, whose wet, rocky ground seemed designed to turn the heel of an incautious biped. A twisted ankle was the last thing she needed right now.

They trudged on in silence for several long cycles before Dierdre began to notice a change in the landscape. The boulder and pebble-strewn ground had gradually given way beneath her metal boots to a vast expanse of strangely fluid black rock, an ancient remnant of magma flow. It soon became apparent that all volcanic activity had not ceased, however, for the air grew noticeably warmer and the drizzling clouds above had taken on a reddish hue. Soon the first tendrils of lava became visible, etched into the dark earth like fine latticework and steaming faintly from the rain.

As the tiny rivers of molten rock grew wider and increasingly more difficult to avoid, Dierdre became aware that it was growing harder to breathe. The faint, shivery burn in her lungs as she inhaled told her the oxygen was growing thin and rapidly being replaced by noxious volcanic fumes. She was in no danger of asphyxiation yet, but…

Dierdre indulged in her emotions long enough to glare briefly at Rattrap's back. He seemed completely unaffected by the deleterious atmosphere, once again giving her cause to envy Transformer resiliency. Her Shield would be able to filter out most of the gasses and allow her to breathe easier, but she dared not activate it unless the faint glow should alert any sharp-eyed Predacon to their presence. Shaking her head, the human resolutely kept moving. She would just have to endure.

So focused was she in picking her way safely over the lava flow --and forcing herself to breathe slowly and evenly to keep from panting in the thin air like an overheated dog-- that she nearly collided with Rattrap when he came to an abrupt halt in front of her. He shot her a dirty look before ducking behind one of the giant spurs of rock which jutted inexplicably from the ground ahead. She followed quickly into its shadow.

Peaking around its broad expanse, she caught her first true glimpse of the Predacon base. The enemy ship squatted like a Salamander in what appeared to be the exact center of the magma field, rivers of molten rock radiating outward like the arms of a starfish. It seemed that only a twist of fate had allowed the ship to crash in such a way that it speared itself on a rock spur and crushed against another, pinning most of it above the flow. Only its belly had been seared by one of the lethal rivers, no doubt turning the lower levels into a lake of molten rock.

Watching as the rain ricocheted off its darkened hull, creating a shimmering halo of reflected orange light around the ship and making it seem almost alive, Dierdre suppressed a shiver. Although she knew it was a ridiculous comparison, the Predacon base looked for all the world like the very entrance to the Torments.

She shook her head in amazement. _Sweet Infinity, we're going in there?_

Her thoughts must have shown on her face, for Rattrap smirked. "Ya think it looks bad on da outside, wait 'till we bust in. It gets even betta'."

"Oh, good," she said with false cheer. Wiping rainwater out of her eyes, she squinted against the darkness. Although her night vision was excellent and aided further by faint light thrown up from the volcanic flow, the ship was still distant enough that she was unable to make out any real detail.

Detaching her scanner from her hip and activating it, she peered down at the tiny screen. A quick scan revealed a Predacon energy signature several hundred yards ahead of the duo, apparently guarding the aft of the base from any attackers. "Rattrap, who is that?"

The Transmetal glanced around their hiding place and retreated back into its shadow before giving her a curious look. "Ya mean ya can't tell?"

She shrugged. "My eyesight is as good as genetic engineering could make it, but it's still not up to par with Transformer optics."

Rattrap snorted in something like scorn, but answered readily enough. "It's Quickstrike."

Nodding, she reattached the scanner to her hip and crossed her arms. Leaning against the stone, she hunched her shoulders against the rain and watched as Rattrap settled himself in much the same fashion. All they could do now was wait.

Fortunately for their nerves, they didn't have to wait long. No more than five cycles had passed before they heard the first faint sounds of discharging weaponry. Optimus and the others had begun their diversion.

Rattrap and Dierdre looked just in time for the human to catch a flash of movement against the base's metallic hide as Quickstrike darted around the hull, apparently eager to get a piece of the action taking place at the fore of the ship. As the sounds of pitched battle grew in intensity --the percussive whine of artillery now accompanied by battle cries and abortive screams of pain-- they drew their weapons. "That's our cue," Dierdre said grimly.

"'Fraid so." Sighing theatrically, Rattrap cocked his weapon. "We're all gonna die."

The unexpected comment surprised a grin out of Dierdre. "It's possible."

He grimaced as Dierdre crouched down in a sprinter's stance, gun clutched firmly in one hand, her red braid draped across one shoulder and dripping water in a steady stream. Copying her motion, he fixed his optics on the distant target ahead of them; a small fissure in the _Darkside's_ rear hull, long ago patched and welded shut, which would provide them access to the interior of the ship. "You're not supposed ta agree wit' me," he replied dryly.

"So you want to live forever?" she asked, her eyes alight with humor.

"Dunno. Ask me again in five hundred years."

With Dierdre's answering chuckle still reverberating in Rattrap's audios, he surged forward. Weaving through the snaking lava streams at a pace that would have been terrifying had they time to think of it, human and Transformer ran side by side in a silent ground-eating lope, heading for the Predacon base… and the prize that lay within.


End file.
